The Ghost of You
by sfdc
Summary: Santana is left reeling after cancer claims Brittany. Her friends do everything in their power to make things a little easier but one person steps up and reminds Santana that life may be worth living once again. Bad summary but give it a shot folks.
1. Prologue

A lot can happen in ten years.

After high school everything got better for Santana and Brittany. They were on the first flight from Lima to New York just like their other glee club who had spent so long yearning for something bigger and better. Santana, Brittany, Kurt, Blaine, Rachel, and Quinn pooled their resources and managed to afford an apartment in Manhatten together. It was cramped but not only were they living the dream they were living it with their best friends. All of them agreed that it was the best way to transition to their new lives.

Santana, Quinn, Kurt and Blaine were all at NYU for their respective courses of study while Rachel was at Julliard and Brittany was studying privately with a well known choreographer who had all but promised her fame after a few years of his teachings. Things were perfect in that year as they adjusted to the city and got their bearings. But after a year in their apartment things were changing and they all knew that it was time to go their seperate ways. But only in terms of living arrangements, there was no way that they would stop seeing each other constantly.

The chain of people gradually moving out started with NYU's winter production of _Chicago_ during everyone's second year at the school. Blaine had been cast as Billy Flynn and Kurt as Amos (which, despite his feminine qualities, he was able to pull of marvelously). A broadway producer for that very plays revival had been in the audience and was absolutely enthralled by the boys' respective performances. He approached them and told them he wanted them to audition. The producer had been even more excited to find out that the two men were a couple ("The press! Think of the press! That alone will be enough to draw in the audience!"). They moved out so they could live closer to the theater district for work and have been getting roles in on and off-broadway shows consistently ever since.

The next person to go was Rachel. Towards the end of her second year at Julliard she and her co-star in the final production of the year found themselves to be falling for each other. Cameron Peters was quick to sweep her off her feet and into his spacious apartment just blocks from Julliard. They soon joined Kurt and Blaine on the big stage after graduating from Julliard and became Broadway's heterosexual it-couple. After the opening night of Rachel's first perfomance on an on-Broadway show Cameron was on his knee in her dressing room and they haven't looked back.

That left Santana, Brittany and Quinn in the apartment. Santana graduated from NYU with an bachelor's degree in law and was quickly accepted into a master's program at Columbia. Brittany, on the other hand, had earned herself an injury that would keep her from professionally dancing. But being that Brittany was Brittany, she took it in stride and quickly found a well-paying job as a dance instructor for children. Everyone knew that the bubbly blonde was heart broken about her career setback but she quickly found that she loved teaching and was damn good at it. Between the money from the teaching job and Santana's payed internship at a prestigious law firm, they were able to afford their own condo atop the New York city skyline.

That left Quinn alone. She couldn't help but feel like an ant in the apartment that just a few years ago had seemed so small, but it was home. Her friends were skeptical about her being there by herself. It wasn't a matter of safety or anything, they all just couldn't help but feel that she was lonely. Santana had Brittany, Kurt had Blaine, and Rachel had Cameron. But Quinn never had really found a solid relationship, just a few hook-ups here and there. They all learned to just trust her in what she was doing because regardless of the amount of suprises she threw around for them she always seemed to be standing tall.

The biggest suprise of all came when everyone was still living together, year one. It was a Saturday morning and the house was just beginning to wake up after a night of heavy drinking. It had taken eight months for them to find a bar that would look the other way when it came to minors and they had celebrated that just a little too hard. Rachel, being Rachel, however, still managed to be her perky self in the morning and was knocking on everyone's door to inform them that she'd made a hangover breakfast. Everyone had gathered around the cramped kitchen island and was digging into pancakes and bacon when Kurt noticed that Quinn hadn't joined them. Grabbing a plate of bacon to wave in her face, Kurt set out for her room. When he came back he had a look that said something between "I don't even know what to do with myself right now" and "this is the best day of my life". Everyone, of course, begged him to tell what he'd seen but he said they'd just have to wait and see. Ten minutes later, Quinn was showing a girl to the door and kissing her goodbye. When the stranger had left you could have heard a pin drop as Quinn finally turned to face her roomates, all of whom had shit-eating grins plastered on their faces. She just smiled and shook her head before joining them.

So, aside from the occassional girl being brought home for the night Quinn was flying solo and quite frankly no one knew why. Blaine had asked her why she didn't try something long-term once and she'd mumbled something about commitment and Beth and too much work. Everyone left it at that because they knew Quinn was strong and would be okay. Everyone knew that even though they didn't see each other everyday that everyone else would be okay.

But sometimes things change, things that no one can do to prevent. It's no one's fault and no one can fix it. That doesn't mean that the guilt wasn't there, because it was there and it made the air around everyone grow thick. They had no choice but to watch as things got worse and worse. It killed each and everyone of them to feel so helpless as they watched two of their dearest friends crumble before their very eyes.

Santana and Brittany had been rolling in the sheets and giggling as per usual when Santana suddenly stopped and felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. Her hand had come to a rest on Brittany's left breast where a lump was screaming at her fingertips. Brittany, the eternal optimist, had kept her head and promised to get it checked out. It was probably nothing anyway, right?

But it was something, something big and bad and confusing and terrifying and a million other things that refused to go away no matter how hard everyone begged them to. December 4th, 2020, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. No one knew why the healthy and young woman was sick but they did know that there was a good chance she would get better. Everyone tried not to worry as doctors told them over and over that they would do everything in their power to get rid of it. A month after the diagnosis the friends could still all get together and laugh easily; Santana and Brittany could still be together without the cancer looming over their heads.

The next month, Brittany had to start chemotherapy and everything got very real very fast. The first time she showered and a clump of her shimmering blonde locks came easily from her head Brittany had cried in Santana's arms for hours. The next day Santana had gone and cried to Quinn, she had refused to cry in front of Brittany because she had to be strong. Eventually, all of it was gone and the wigs started happening. Kurt and Blaine had gotten high-quality ones from the wardrobe folks at one of their shows and given them to Brittany. They looked just like her old hair and it made pretending a little bit easier.

But the hair was only half of it. Eventually she started to look tired and simply didn't have the energy to keep teaching. She left her job and stayed home. Santana soon left school to take care of Brittany. She was a semester short of her masters but she couldn't afford it, what with all the medical bills. Thankfully, Brittany's parents had been keeping a steady stream of money flowing towards the couple to keep them afloat. Times were hard but they were about to get harder.

A month after Brittany's twenty-seventh birthday the cancer still hadn't gone away. The chemo wasn't helping, nothing was helping. August 17th, 2021, Brittany was given terminal status, less than a year to be precise. Pretending was impossible now but everyone tried so hard. The friends of the couple would spend a lot of time with them, taking them to shows and dinners and all sorts of lovely places in the city. They wanted them to be happy and to laugh, but laughing was exhausting after a while.

Quinn, Rachel, Cameron, Blaine, and Kurt were helpless as they watched Brittany get thinner, weaker, and less lively every day. The glimmer in her eyes was flickering out and everyone knew it. They also watched Santana try to be strong for her first love and best friend but her eyes always betrayed her. In the dark brown pools was defeat, anger, sorrow, fear, and the wetness of tears that she had been holding back for months. But Santana would be damned if she ever let Brittany know she felt that way, she was doing everything in her power to make the ending seem not so bad for her love. She tried to take Brittany out and do all sorts of fun things together but it all got to be too much and soon they found themselves spending their days at home, just being together while they could.

June 26th, 2022, Brittany fell asleep in Santana's arms and never woke up.

**A/N: Just incase it seemed like it was, this isn't a one shot. It's going to be a full story. The title of this story is also a My Chemical Romance song that gave me this idea so give it a listen, it's a fantastic song.**


	2. The Dull Thud

Staring into the bottom of a shot glass, Santana Lopez tried to numb herself. The funeral was harder than she thought it would be and though her friends were there for her she still felt completely lost and alone. She felt a million other things as well and she didn't even know where to begin to sort them out. She didn't even know if she wanted to sort them out.

There had been a gravside service and it had rained, it was like a scene straight out of a movie. The pastor had shouted to be heard above the storm that came out of nowhere on June 28th, 2022, the day Brittany S. Pierce was committed to the earth. Santana shuddered and felt her stomach twisting violently as she rememberd the dull thud as shovel after shovel of dirt fell atop the elm coffin below. She had watched as the greatest thing to ever happen to her was buried from view and hidden for the rest of time.

Then she had had to stand around as people walked past her and Brittany's family offering condolences when all she wanted to do was be alone and far away from it all. People she hadn't seen in years embraced her tighter than they ever had before and she had to smile back weakly at each and every one of them. Old teachers, friends, family and colleagues filed past her and they all were wondering the same thing: would Santana Lopez ever bounce back? They hated themselves for thinking it but they knew that it was a very real possibility that she wouldn't. Anyone who knew anything about her knew that Brittany was her everything. As Sue Sylvester once said, Brittany was that person she was tethered to. Now there was nothing on the other end of that tether and Santana was floating through space without an anchor.

Despite their own immeasurable grief, even Brittany's parents and younger sister worried about Santana. Her whole life had been Brittany, she had thrown everything else away for Brittany. She had dropped out of school, burned through all of her money, and now she had nothing. She especially didn't have the will to go out and get something. Santana's own parents had told her she was always welcome back home in Lima but she had refused, she couldn't go back to where it all began.

To put it simply, Santana had absolutely no idea what to do with herself. So she decided that for now, she'd drink away her sorrows free of charge at the bar below Blaine and Kurt's apartment that they had bought as a side project. The two men had closed shop for the public that day and had offered an open invitation to all funeral goers who were more than happy to accept.

But most people had gone home by now. Only Santana, Quinn, Rachel, Cameron, Blaine and Kurt remained. Sitting around the bar the five friends all couldn't help but dwell on the fact that there group was one person short. Everything had been silent for at least twenty minutes, minues the clinking or glasses demanding refills, when Rachel's phone buzzed. She looked at it through blurred vision and opened the email she'd just recieved.

"It's Finn," she mumbled. "He's sorry he couldn't make it but he couldn't take leave, he'll visit next month."

Finn had been stationed overseas for going on two and a half years now. No one had told him Brittany was sick because they didn't want to make his being away from home harder than it already was. But then again, everyone had thought that she would get better. But when she didn't and ended up dying Finn had been completely blind-sided by the news. He was angry at first, he could've come home and helped. But he quickly learned that being angry wouldn't change anything nor would it help anyone.

"Good," Kurt leaned his head against Blaine's shoulder as they stood behind the bar. "I miss him."

"We all do," Rachel sighed.

"I just don't think I could handle another, you know, if something happened over there," Kurt muttered quietly, voicing what everyone was thinking. No one was ready to see another one of their friends die and they all knew that that was a very real possibility for Finn.

"I honestly thought we'd be like this for him," Rachel admitted. "I thought he was the one who wouldn't come back..."

"He'll be back, don't worry right now," Cameron put his hand on Rachel's thigh and squeezed lightly. He knew that Finn and Rachel had a history but he also knew that they had both moved on while still remaining good friends. He respected their friendship and had even grown to like Finn himself on the few occassions they'd met.

"I wanna go home," Rachel slurred as she stood up on wobbly feet. Cameron nodded and stood, putting a steadying arm around his wife's waist. They caught everyone's eye but Santana's for a silent goodbye. Rachel pulled out of Cameron's grip briefly and went over to where the latina kept staring into her glass. She offered a quick peck on the cheek before returning to Cameron and walking out with him.

"And then there were four," Blaine mused drunkenly as he downed yet another shot.

"That's enough Blaine," Kurt insisted as he grabbed away the glass. "For both of us."

"I'm tired," Blaine yawned. "Can we go upstairs?"

Kurt nodded before turning to Quinn.

"Can you lock up when you two leave and umm... moderate the alcohol consumption?" his eyes flickered over to Santana who was helping herself to another shot.

"Sure, we won't be long," Quinn tried to smile at her friend but couldn't.

"Thanks, we'll see you later then."

Kurt draped Blaine's arm around his shoulder and practically carried him out of the bar. The door closed behind them with a thud that made Santana flinch in her seat. Quinn noticed and scooted over until she was at the bar stool next to Santana.

"How are you doing?" she asked.

"How do you think I'm doing?" Santana had intended to be snap but it just came out sounding painfully sad.

"It'll be okay, it'll take a while but it'll be okay," Quinn offered her friend.

"It hasn't been okay for two years," Santana sighed and turned to face Quinn. "I'd give anything to trade places with her, you know that?"

"I've known that for a long time, we all have."

"The last night, do you know what she asked me?" tears were beginning to flow down Santana's cheeks. She didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "She asked me if I thought she'd be a good mom. She asked me if we would've had a family together and I told her yes. She said we'd have had three kids, two girls and a boy and then we'd get a fat cat and a big dog and we'd be happy. She just kept on talking and talking and it killed me because I could hear it in her voice how sad she was that she'd never have it. Quinn, why couldn't she have it?" Santana's voice was desperate.

"I don't know," was all Quinn could say.

"She never got the things she wanted most," Santana muttered. "She never got to dance because of her injury and she never will get a family because she was sick."

"But she got you and you know that she wanted you more than any of those other things."

The two women fell silent and let their shaky fingers run up and down the sides of their shot glasses. A few moments later Santana laughed weakly and Quinn shot her a confused glance.

"You know Q, my name should be on that tombstone next to hers."

"What do you mean?" Quinn tilted her head as she asked.

"I died right along with her."


	3. Little White Pills

Five days now Santana had woken up and tried to wrap her arms around the air next to her where Brittany should have been. Five mornings Santana had opened her eyes and traced the slight indentations on the mattress left from Brittany's form as she cried and wished more than anything that this had never happened. Today, the fifth day, Santana finally decided to pick up her phone and see if people had sent her anything. Thirty missed calls, nine unread personal emails, and a plethora of text messages. She decided to start with the emails as those were from people who weren't in New York with her.

**Finn Hudson:**

**Santana,**

**I already told Rachel but I couldn't take a leave in time for the service but I'm flying out to visit soon. I'm sorry this happened but I really do think it'll get better in time. Hang in there, I'm here for you even if I can't be there.**

**Sam Evans:**

**Hey San,**

**I'm sorry I couldn't make it to New York but money's been tight and it just wasn't a possibility. I just want you to know that everyone here in Lima is devastated and we wish you the best. Please don't hesitate to call if you ever want to talk, I know we haven't seen each other in a while but I'm still your friend and will do anything I can to help.**

**Mercedes Jones:**

**Hey girl,**

**Everything's a little surreal now isn't it? If I'm feeling like this I can't imagine what you're feeling right now so I want to be able to support you how ever I can. I couldn't get out of my video shoot for the service but I can fly out any time now and visit if you want, just tell me if and when and I'll be on a plan faster than you can say 'tots' (yes I'm trying to get you to laugh, I hope it works :]). Anyway, I love you and hope to see you soon. Best wishes.**

**Mike Chang:  
><strong>

**Hi Santana,**

**I just got the news and I'm not sure what to do with myself or what I'm supposed to say to you. So I'll just say that I'm going to miss my dancing buddy and that if you're still the same Santana Lopez from high school I know you're strong enough to get through this. Tina and I want to see you, it's been too long so when you're up to it let us know and we can fly out there or you can come here if you want a vacation. I miss you more than I thought I would and I sincerely hope things start looking up for you soon.**

**Tina Cohen-Chang:**

**Hi San,**

**I know Mike just sent you an email but I still wanted to send you one. Like Mike said, we both miss you and hope we can see you soon somehow. But, more importantly, I'm so sorry about Brittany. It's terrible that this had to happen but knowing you two you loved each other until the end and even after and that's something special, never forget that. I hope you focus on the good times and don't dwell on the bad, it's better to remember than mourn. You've always been a fighter so I know you'll get through this.**

**Noah Puckerman:**

**Hey best lesbro,**

**I feel like a total bastard for not being there for everything but I've saved up enough to come visit, just tell me when works. I know everything's hard and the world probably feels pretty empty right now but I hope you're fighting to see some light. I miss her too, everyone misses her. But you have to remember it's Brittany we're talking about here, she'd want people to be happy again and move on; not forget, move on. Especially you. You know as well as I that she wouldn't want you to fall into a bad space and never come back out, she'd want you to be living your life still. If I know you you'll probably think that's some sort of betrayal but like I said, you're moving on and not forgetting and that's totally okay to do. I'm not saying you have to start moving on right away because everything takes time but just remember it's something you need to do. Anyway, I love you, I miss you, I want to see you ASAP.**

**Artie Abrams:**

**Santana,**

**I hoped it wasn't true but multiple people have confirmed it is so here I am writing to you. I know we've had our differences in the past, mainly because of Brittany, but I still want you to know that I never hated you. I was jealous but I didn't hate you. I also know that she loved you so much, more than I've ever seen anyone love someone. Never forget that.**

**William Schuester:**

**Santana,**

**Wow... this is all so unbelievable, to say the least. It seems like just yesterday that the two of you were linking pinkies in glee club and thinking that no one knew that you were more than friends. To see you all grow up has made me so proud of each and every one of you. But you and Brittany had something so special that I saw as more than some typical teenage romance. You guys were just kids and you're love inspired an old man like me! I know this email might seem out of no where seeing as I haven't spoken to you guys all too much since graduation but I just want you to know that I'm proud of all of you and send my deepest condolences your way. Lastly, I don't know if you know this but a two years after you guys graduated McKinley built a dance room next to the choir room for the dancing portion of glee club. I've talking to the administration and we've decided to name it after Brittany. She was one of the greatest dancers I've ever seen and she deserves to be honored in some way, so the Brittany S Pierce dance studio at McKinley is my way of remembering her. Stay strong Santana, she would have wanted you to.**

**Sue Sylvester:**

**Sandbags,**

**The loss of one of the greatest Cheerios to have the privilege of being on one of my squads is heartwrenching. Though I'm still not happy about her abstaining from the cannon launch, I still think that she's without a doubt one of the most talented people I've seen in my many years as a cheerleading coach. The world has lost something special in Brittany Pierce but that girl was painfully optimistic so I know that she's at peace now. In a rare display of affection I'm going to say that I hope you find peace too.**

Santana sighed as she finished the last email. Move on, you're strong, everything's going to be fine. That's easy for all of them to say, they haven't had their soulmate taken away from them. She knew they meant well but she wished that they would just leave her alone. Their apologies and words of encouragement were all reminders of the fact that something was wrong. Santana could remember that something was wrong all on her own.

To top it all off, she was crying again. Santana had stopped trying to wipe away tears a long time ago, finding it was best to just let everything runs it's course before wasting the time to clear her face. Had she not been so weighed down by her depression, she would probably marvel at the sheer quantity of tears her body had proven to be able to produce over the past few days.

Tossing her phone to the floor beside her bed, Santana lay back down and chose to ignore the text messages that would most likely serve as more reminders that Brittany wasn't her. Rolling onto her side, she grabbed Brittany's pillow and buried her face in it. The blonde's scent was still there and Santana only cried harder shen she realized it would only be a matter of time until that was gone too.

Santana thought back to what Puck said, about how Brittany would have wanted her to move on and be happy. But Brittany would have also known that wasn't a realistic possibility. It wasn't that Santana wouldn't move on, she just couldn't; there is absolutely nothing that could make Santana happy again. Even if she tried to be happy she'd think that Brittany should be here being happy with her. If Santana went for a walk in the park she would remember that Brittany loved walks, if she went to a club she'd remeber Brittany loved to dance, if she saw a cat she'd remember that Brittany loved cats, and if she ever started a family she'd always have the aching feeling that she should have been doing it with Brittany. It would always come back to Brittany.

Now that Santana thought about it, not only was it a matter of not being able to move on from Brittany. Even if she could she knew she wouldn't truly want to. She was going to be alone from here on it, she had come to accept that. The wildcard for Santana at this point was could she _handle_ being alone? She had spent five days wrestling with that question and she was leaning towards no: she couldn't do it. No amount of emails laced with sympathy and positive reinforcement was going to change that.

And so it was that Santana got up from her bed and dragged herself into the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom and opened the medicine cabinet. She pulled out a bottle that Brittany's doctor had prescribed a month before but had gone unused, prescription strength sleeping pills. She filled a glass perched on the sink with water and took it as well as the bottle back to the bedroom, where she placed them on the bedside table. Santana pulled open the closet and grabbed one of Brittany's old hoodies that she would wear whenever they lounged around the house and pulled it on over the tanktop she'd been wearing for the past few days. Pulling the hood over her messy hair, Santana buried her nose in the material and inhaled deeply, letting Brittany overwhelm her senses once again.

After a moment of reveling in the scent, Santana sat on the edge of her bed and thought about jotting down a few words for her friends before deciding against it. They weren't stupid, surely they'd know why. She grabbed the bottle of pills and stared at the label, tracing her fingers across Brittany's name on the prescription registration. She remember the day the blonde had gotten them. It had been getting harder and harder for her to sleep so the doctor said these would do wonders. Brittany insisted against it, not wanting to sleep away her last days but he gave them to her just in case. With an eyeroll, she had accepted the pills and headed home only to shove them into the medicine cabinet where they'd stayed until now.

Finally, Santana untwisted the cap and poured the contents into the palm of her left hand. She stared at them, somewhat shocked by the fact that some simple little pills were all it would take for her to be back with Brittany. It all seemed too easy, not that she was going to complain. With a heaving sigh, Santana closed her eyes and tossed the bottles worth of pills into her mouth before grabbing the glass and chugging it's contents.

It took five minutes for her to start feeling something. She was dizzy and her vision was starting to go in and out of focus. Unable to keep her head up, Santana lay down and pulled the covers over herself then pulled the pillow that smelled of Brittany into her embrace. She closed her eyes but still felt the room spinning, it was like she was on a raft at sea during a violent storm. She should have been scared, but with her nose buried in the pillow Brittany's scent reminded her that it would be over soon and they would be together.

Ten minutes later Santana knew it was coming to an end. She couldn't feel anything, not even the softness of the hoodie clinging to her skin. Her breaths were getting shallower by the minute. It was time to let go and she was ready. With the weakest of exhales, she surrendered completely. The last thing she heard before falling into unconciousness was a banging on her front door that sounded much further away than it really was.


	4. Not Again

"Santana Lopez you open this door right now!" Rachel called as she slammed her fist against her friends front door while Kurt stood next to her and called her phone once again.

"Dammit Santana we are making you go outside whether you like it or not!" Rachel shouted once again as she rubbed her hand, taking a break from pummelling the door.

"You know maybe she went out on her on," Kurt suggested, seriously doubting that that was the truth.

"Well then we're going to wait for her to come back because it has been days since we've seen or heard from her and that simply won't do."

"I know, I agree but she's going to need time."

"Believe me I know, but I at least want to check on her," Rachel sighed in defeat and ran a shaky hand through her hair. She tilted her head in confusion when Kurt suddenly readhed his arm up and ran his fingers along the top of the door frame. His face brightened suddenly and he pulled down a key.

"I remember Brit told me once that she put a spare up there because she always forgot hers," Kurt smiled as he unlocked the door.

The door swung open and the Rachel and Kurt stepped inside. Everything looked the same as the last time they'd seen it. Nothing had been rearranged or taken down yet it still seemed more vacant than the last time.

"Santana?" Kurt called but got no reply.

"Her wallet is on the counter," Rachel nodded towards the kitchen area. "She probably didn't go out, if she did at least not far."

"Well maybe she's just sleeping," Kurt figured that that would be it. It may have been four in the afternoon but given everything that had happened he wouldn't be suprised if his friend was spending her days in bed. Without another word, the two made their way to the bedroom.

The door was cracked open and Rachel leaned foward to open it the rest of the way. When they looked in they saw a lump under the covers. They couldn't decide whether to smile about seeing their friend or frown because she was wasting away the day in bed.

"Santana," Rachel called softly as she moved over to the bed. "Come on, time to wake up."

Rachel sat down next to Santana on the bed and placed a hand on her through the covers, shaking softly. Kurt scanned the room as all that happened and his eyes fell on a prescription bottle resting on the bedside table. He was just picking it up when Rachel spoke up again.

"Kurt she's not waking up," she was trying to hold back panic, not wanting to jump to conclusions. Rachel watched Kurt as he read the label on the bottle.

"Oh my God," he whispered in shook.

"Kurt wh-" Rachel was cut off.

"Rachel I think we need to call an ambulance," Kurt dropped the bottle and reached over to pull the covers off of Santana's body. Rachel jumped back and watched in horror as Kurt pressed his ear to the latina's chest. Tears were already pooling in his eyes as he pulled away.

"Rachel call _now_!" he cried as he pulled Santana onto her back and began administiring chest compressions.

With violently trembling fingers, Rachel managed to dial 911 while Kurt became lost in his attempts to wake Santana.

_"911 what is your emergency?_"

"W-w-we found our friend and I think she tried to kill herself," Rachel stammered, trying to hold back the sobs that were ripping at the base of her throat.

"_Is she breathing?"_

"Kurt is she breathing?"

"Barely," he grunted out without wavering in his work.

"Barely," Rachel relayed to the operator.

_"Alright an ambulance is on the way. You need to start CPR, I'll instruct you on ho-"_

"No, no my friend's already doing it he knows how," Rachel cut off the operator.

_"Okay, the ambulance should be there any minute, just hang tight."_

"Thank you," Rachel choked out before ending the call.

She quickly pocketed her phone before leaning down and picking up the bottle that had fallen to the floor. Barely able to make out the print as her shaking made the print unclear, Rachel was able to read enough to know that these were sleeping pills. Strong sleeping pills at that.

"It's not working!" Kurt yelled in exasperation before leaning into Santana to try and breath some life into her. Rachel picked up that latina's limp arm and layed her fingers across the pulse point.

"Kurt she doesn't have a pulse!" she yelped in shock and jumped away. He lay his head against her chest and swore loudly.

"She's not even breathing anymore!"

As if on cue, sirens began to blare outside and an instant later a pair of paramedics had burst in through the front door and run into the bedroom.

"I need you two to step back we can take it from here," a man no older than twenty-five called as his partner leaned next to Santana to check vitals.

"No breathing, no pulse but I'm pretty sure it's just shocked. No use in trying anyting here bring her to ambulance she's gonna need shocks."

That was the final straw for Rachel, the sobs that had been threatening to breach finally wracked through her body. Kurt, too shocked to cry, just put his arms around Rachel and held her head against his chest as he watched the paramedics strap his other friend to a stretcher.

"Can we come?" Kurt asked as they began to carry her out of the room.

"You have to sit up front and come right now," he called over his shoulder as he and his partner left the room. Without any second thought, Kurt and Rachel ran after them and jumped into the front seats of the ambulance. They gripped each others hands in silence as the ambulance rocketed through the New York City streets towards the hospital. Both tried to think of anything but what was happening behind them.

xXxXxXxXx

"Ben hurry it up for table five! They're starting to get pissy," Quinn called to the cook of the diner she worked at as she sat on a stool next to the counter to rest her feet for a moment. She had been working at the diner for two years now. A large part of her resented it, all of her other friends had actual professions and here she was working a job meant for college students. It payed the bills and gave her some pocket money but it wasn't a career. But then again, Quinn Fabray had absolutely no idea what she wanted her career to be.

"Hey Q!" Lisa, her fellow waitress, waved Quinn's phone as she walked over. "I was in the break room and this things been going off like crazy"

"Thanks, can you take table five so I can check this out?" Lisa nodded and handed Quinn's phone to her. An array of missed calls, texts, and voicemails made Quinn immediately uneasy. Deciding to start with voicemails, her heart immediately dropped when she heard a crying and panicked Rachel telling her something she wasn't sure she could handle.

**Quinn y-y-you need to come down to the hospital now. I-it's Santana she... she... God Quinn she tried to kill herself and I don't even know if she's alive right now. I know you're working but please hurry we all need you here. She needs you here. She'll need all of us to help her get better because she's going to be fine, she has to be fine. Just hurry, please.**

Rachel had sounded so strained and barely kept together, she was clearly terrified and because Rachel (or Santana) was usually the one in their group of friends to really keep it together when times were rough Quinn knew it was bad. Without a second thought, Quinn ran to the break room and grabbed her purse before dashing out the door, ignoring the yells from her coworkers.

Quinn ran for all she was worth, pushing through the angry crowds of New Yorkers as she made her way to the hospital that she worked only ten or so blocks away from. As she ran all she could do was pray to anyone and everyone that Santana would be okay. If Santana wasn't okay, Quinn wasn't sure she could be either.

**A/N: Geeze the part with Quinn was a total pain to write for some reason, so sorry if it's bleh. I rewrote it like ten times with different places of employment and for some reason I liked this one best, so I hope you guys were diggin' it. Please take the minute to review as well :]**


	5. This Is Goodbye

_Santana opened her eyes and found herself in the William McKinley choir room. She stood up and brushed herself off, choosing to ignore the strangeness of the fact that she had been sleeping in the middle of the room. With a yawn and a stretch she let out a satisfied groan as her back cracked. _

_Now that she somewhat had her barings, Santana looked around the room and noticed that it was empty. The chairs were all lined up the way she remembered them and the piano was off to the side as always. Everything was exactly how it should be._

"_It's like we never left, isn't it?"_

_Santana's heart fluttered at the voice that came from behind her. Every fiber of her being wanted her to turn around because she was sure of who it was but on the other hand she didn't think she could stand the dissapointment of finding out her mind had just been playing tricks on her._

"_I wish you'd turn around," the voice was softer this time and Santana couldn't resist it any longer. With a sigh, she turned around and was greeted by the greatest sight of all._

"_B," she gasped and ran foward towards the woman she'd missed so much. Brittany looked healthy and full of life, just like before she got sick. Santana reached out to pull Brittany into a hug but ended up stumbling through the figure._

"_We can't touch here," Brittany explained sadly. "That's the way it works here, I don't know why but I can't change it."_

_Santana felt sick. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, and she wanted nothing more than to just be able to hold Brittany._

"_It's not fair," she choked out, trying desperately to hold back the onslaught of impending tears. _

"_No one ever said it was," Brittany sighed and made her way over to a seat. "This is where I sat when you sang to me," her fingers danced over the back of the chair. "This is where I was sitting when I knew once and for all that no matter how much you hurt me that you'd always love me and we'd be together eventually."_

"_I'm so sorry Brittany, I was so stupid," Santana ran a shaky hand through her hair. "I wasted so much time by not being with you back then."_

"_But I knew you loved me," Brittany shrugged before turning to face Santana. "But now isn't the time for regrets, they won't get you anywhere."_

"_All I have left are regrets," tears were starting to spill now and Santana wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in Brittany's arms. "There are so many things I never got to say to you or give you." Santana sighed and dropped into one of the chairs in the front row. "You know, I bought a ring. I never got to give it to you."_

"_I know, I know all of that now," Brittany said with an air of knowing that Santana felt awed by. _

"_But it never happened, it can't happen. It's not fair!" Santana wiped profusely at the tears streaming down her cheeks. "I feel like I barely had any time with you B. It's not fair. I never got to do all the things I wanted to for you."_

"_I died knowing you loved me and knowing you would have given me all those things had you had the time," Brittany sighed and sat down next to Santana. "That's enough for me, just knowing."_

"_How can you be so calm about this?" Santana asked with anger in her voice. "How can you be okay with being ripped from the earth and not getting to do all the things you wanted to do? You deserved it all more than anyone else and you don't get to have any of it!"_

"_Because what other choice do I have," Brittany stated calmy and Santana instantly felt guilty for yelling. "I wish you'd be okay with it too."_

"_I can never be okay with having to walk, no crawl, through life without you," Santana said, defeat plain in her voice._

"_You can be strong without me," Brittany insisted. "You have to be strong without me."_

"_I'm not even gonna get the chance to be strong without you, I'm dead now aren't I?" Santana asked._

"_Nope," Brittany said casually. "You're not dead."_

"_Well why the hell not?" Santana felt even more frustrated than before. "I want to be dead, I want to stay here with you."_

"_The selfish part of me wants you to stay too, but you can't. It's not your time," Brittany said._

"_How do you know when my time is?" Santana asked._

"_I just know when your time isn't," Brittany shrugged. "I know a lot of things now but not that."_

"_I want my time to be now," Santana mumbled. "I can't face a world without you."_

"_That's where your wrong," Brittany said sternly. "Santana you can do anything. You can be happy, you can be successful, you can have a family."_

_Santana's head shot up and she looked at Brittany, "I can't have a family with someone who isn't you. I can't even feel anything for someone who isn't you. Even if I did ever feel something for someone else I couldn't betray you like that."_

"_You wouldn't be betraying me. I understand that you need to move on, I want you to move on," Brittany's voice was soft now, encouraging._

"_I can't love someone who isn't you," Santana voice was shaking now as sobs began coursing through her. _

"_You can, I want you too."_

"_I just can't! Why don't you get that?" Santana tried to yell but suddenly felt too weak to muster up the energy._

"_Santana if you really love me you'll move on!" It was Brittany's turn to yell. "I can't stand the idea of you living in the shadows all miserable. If you want me to be happy go be happy. I don't care who it is that makes you happy but I want you to find that person and let yourself love them. The time for loving me is past, and no it's not fair but neither of us can change it and you have to accept that."_

"_Can't I just stay here forever?" Santana asked again after a moment of silence passed between the two._

"_I already said no, besides you're leaving," Brittany's voice was calm and soothing again but Santana was suddenly on edge._

"_Not yet!" she insisted. "Just a little longer."_

"_I don't make the decisions, I just let you know they've been made," Brittany stood up and walked towards the door. Santana jumped up and ran after her._

"_Brittany don't I can't lose you again," Santana pleaded, making Brittany stop and turn to face her once more._

"_This isn't easy for me either you know," Brittany sighed. "This is goodbye."_

"_Can't it be see you later?" Santana asked weakly and Brittany couldn't help but smile slightly._

"_No, this is it," Brittany deadpanned. _

"_What am I supposed to do then?" Santana placed her hands on the back of her neck in a display of agony. "Where the hell do I go from here? You apparently have all the answers now so tell me what to do!"_

"_All I can tell you to do is move on," Brittany stated simply._

"_I can't just stop loving!" Santana cried in exasperation._

"_I never said you would or could. You'll always love me but you'll love someone else too._

"_I only want you! I just want to hold you and kiss you and tell you I love you! That's not so much to ask, is it?" Santana asked._

"_Santana we really have to leave now so I'll just say this. You can move on, you will move on, I want you to move on. I never said forget me because that's just impossible. Remember me, keep loving me, but know that there is room for someone else. I love you," Without another word, Brittany reached for the knob of the choir room door and twisted it open. She stood still for a moment, sighed, then walked out; the door closed behind her with a sickening thud._

_Santana ran at the door and grabbed the handle, fighting to twist it open but it was locked now. _

"_Brittany!" she slammed her fist against the door and yelled out at the empty hallway through it. "Brittany come back!"_

_With a yell of defeat, Santana slid down the door and leaned against it. She hid her face behind her hands and cried like she'd never cried before. And then, without warning, a blinding flash of white engulfed her and the choir room was gone._

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Santana?" a quiet voice asked. "Are you awake?"

Santana opened her eyes and saw the ceiling of what she assumed to be a hospital room. She clenched her eyes shut again immediately, hoping that this was a hallucination and maybe she wasn't actually alive. But when she felt no changes she knew that this was real and that she had been unsuccessful in killing herself. So, she did the only thing she knew how to do anymore and surrendered herself to the tears that had already begun spilling down her face.

"Oh my God Santana you're awake!" the voice exclaimed.

Santana opened her eyes and saw Quinn standing next to her with a mixture of emotions playing across her face.

"Santana we thought we'd lost you," Quinn said, her voice quiet once again and her own tears starting to fall as she saw that Santana was crying too. "Don't do it again, please just promise you won't do it again."

"I'm sorry," Santana whispered. "I can't make that promise."

Quinn's breath hitched in an unpleasant way and her face contorted as she began sobbing.

"I can't lose you Santana I just can't. I know you're hurting but I just can't. I know that's selfish but I don't care," Quinn choked out. "You're my best friend, I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I want her back," Santana said so quietly Quinn almost missed it. "I just want her back."

"I wish I could give her to you but I can't, no one can," Quinn sat on the side of Santana's hospital bed and took her hand. "Just hang in there San. You have so many people here who love you, just don't forget that."

"I never did forget it. But all that love can't replace her."

Quinn sighed squeezed Santana's hand tightly, "Lets just rest for now. Everyone's gonna want to see you in the morning."

Santana nodded in agreement and let her head fall back against the pillow. Quinn moved from sitting on the side of the bed to the chair next to it and closed her eyes in an attempt to fall asleep. Neither let go of the others hand.


	6. Let Me In

When Quinn awoke somewhere around nine the next morning her fingers had remained laced with a still sleeping Santana's. At any other time she would have smiled at this. but after her brief talk with Santana last night she couldn't think about anything else. Luckily, Blaine appeared in the doorway before Quinn had time to lose herself in reliving that conversation.

"Has she woken up yet?" Blaine asked quietly. Quinn just nodded and sighed, eyes never leaving her and Santana's hands. Blaine sighed and walked over to Quinn, placing a hand on her shoulder. "She'll be okay," he promised himself as much as Quinn.

"I'm not sure if she will be," Quinn mumbled.

Blaine squeezed her shoulder and gestured to the door, "come get coffee with me, you should get up for at least a few minutes."

Quinn nodded once again and gently pulled her hand from Santana's. With one final look at the sleeping woman, she followed Blaine towards the cafeteria of the hospital. After grabbing mud-like coffees, Blaine brought Quinn outside and had her sit with him on a bench in the quad of the hospital. Moments of silence passed before Blaine spoke up.

"I know this is hard but it won't help her if she sees you being upset like this. We all should try and be cheery, show her everything's gonna be fine."

"But it won't be," Quinn muttered as she warmed her hands against the coffee she hadn't had any of.

"Well with an attitude like that it won't," Blaine said gently yet sternly.

"She's so far gone Blaine," Quinn looked up to Blaine, anguish clear in both her voice and eyes. "I feel like I'll never have the old Santana back."

"It'll take a while but she'll be happy again, we just need to be patient. It's gonna take a while and it's gonna be hard to watch her like this but she'll bounce back. Santana Lopez always bounces back," he said with a sad determination.

"Do you know what happened when she woke up last night?" Quinn asked as she put her coffee down next to her on the bench, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. Blaine just shook his head and let her continue, "I started crying when she woke up, we both were. Then I begged her not to do it again and she said she couldn't make that promise."

With those words, Quinn buried her face in her hands and started sobbing. Blaine's breath hitched in shock and he put his coffee down as well before wrapping his arms around Quinn.

"She'll be okay," was all Blaine could say as the two friends held onto each other and cried for yet another friend they were losing.

xXxXx

Twenty minutes later Quinn and Blaine made their way back to Santana's room to find that the rest of the gang had arrived and that Santana had woken up. Everyone looked up at the pair whose eye's were still slightly red from tears.

"There you are," Kurt gave a smile that was missing it's usual shine.

"Yeah, we just stepped out for some coffee," Blaine said as he walked over to Kurt. "So did we miss anything?" he added.

Everyone mumbled "nope" and the room fell into a strained silence. To everyone's surprise Santana was the one to break it.

"You were gone when I woke up," she mumbled without looking up from her hands which she had clasped over her stomach.

Quinn's heart wrenched with a shocking amount of guilt. "I'm sorry," was the only reply she could muster as she looked into Santana's eyes. They too were slightly puffy and red, leading Quinn to believe that when Santana had woken up and found herself alone she had cried.

_I won't leave you again_, Quinn swore mentally.

"So how long until you can go home?" Rachel asked, breaking the intense silence that had fallen on the group.

"I have to stay three days, suicide watch policy," Santana's bluntness made everyone cringe. "Not that home is any better than here," she added quietly.

"You don't want to go home?" Cameron asked as he tilted his head in confusion.

"I can't be there, not without her. Everytime I walk into a room I see her," Santana whispered absently, tears brimming her eyes again.

"Guys, can you give us a minute," Quinn spoke up quickly before anyone could say anything.

"We should get to work, we all have our first read through in an hour," Rachel put on a happy face. Rachel, Cameron, Blaine, and Kurt had all been cast in a new show that had broadway potential. But the real reason they were doing it was to be able to do at least one project all together in their careers. And so, the four said their respective goodbyes to Santana as they filed out.

"Good luck with whatever it is you're doing," Kurt murmured to Quinn as he exited and the two women were left alone.

"Santana I don't want you to be alone in that house," Quinn said softly as she sat down on a chair pulled up beside Santana's bed.

"Well I'm alone so that's how it has to be," Santana stared straight ahead as she spoke.

"You're not," Quinn replied firmly, putting aside the hurt she felt at Santana's statement. Now wasn't the time to take offense to anything Santana said.

"You have all your friends," Quinn continued. "You have me," she added more quietly.

"Then what do you suggest I do?" Santana finally looked at Quinn. "What am I supposed to do now?"

It was a loaded question, to say the least. And, if she was being honest with herself, Quinn didn't know the answer. But she did know that she would do everything she could to help Santana find whatever it is that she so desperately needed.

"Come back to the apartment," Quinn grabbed Santana's hand as she spoke. "At least spend a month or two with me, I'm not saying you should give up your apartment but maybe it would be for the best if you lived with someone. We could have fun, like old times."

"Quinn..." Santana sighed but was cut off by Quinn.

"No Santana, I'm sticking to my guns on this one. I'll move in with you if you want I just thought you'd prefer the old place because of what you said."

"Okay," Santana said simply.

"Wait, okay?" Quinn asked, with a shocked expression on her face.

"Yes, no need to look so thrilled. I mean I know I'm a burden and all but I really can't go back home," Santana muttered and looked away, afraid that Quinn was going to take back her offer.

"You will never be a burden you know," Quinn squeezed Santana's hand. "And I only made a face because I expected some good old Santana Lopez stubborness."

"Sorry to dissapoint," Santana sighed. "But the old Santana Lopez is gone."

Hearing that scared Quinn to no end and also made her glad that Santana would be coming home with her. If Santana were to be alone Quinn feared that she would try something again...

"Well she'll be back, if it's the last thing I do," Quinn put on a brave smile for both of them.

"Don't hold your breath," Santana muttered.

"I don't intend to," Quinn quipped back. "Just let me be there for you, let everyone be there for you, and before you know it you'll be happy again."

"You make it sound so easy," Santana said with some sarcasm that made Quinn happy that some of her old friend was still there.

"It won't, but if you let people help it'll be easier than isolating yourself."

"Okay," was all Santana said, though she sounded very unconvinced and Quinn knew that it was just Santana's way of ending the conversation. And, for the time being, Quinn let Santana drop the subject. There would be plenty of time for all that later, or at least Quinn hoped there would be.


	7. The Things She Can Do To Me

"So, hows she been?" Blaine asked as he slipped into the booth and handed Quinn her coffee, which she graciously accepted.

"I don't know, better?" Quinn sighed dejectedly as she took a sip of her warm drink. "One minute it seems like she's really gonna be okay then the next she's shut in her room crying."

"Is she talking to you?" Quinn nodded and Blaine continued. "Well that's definitely progress. I wouldn't worry too much unless she starts shutting you out. Of course she's gonna be back and forth for a while she just lost, well, everything."

"I know you're right but I just hate seeing her like this," Quinn said, frustration clear in her tone.

"We all do," Blaine said simply.

"I'm so fucking scared she's gonna try something again," Quinn admitted quietly and Blaine just let her continue. "I'm so scared that I'm gonna go wake her up one morning but not be able to."

"It's okay to be scared," Blaine reached out and placed his hand atop Quinn's. "But have a little faith in her, she's healing and it's gonna take a long time."

"But I told you what she said at the hospital," Quinn added. "She doesn't even know if she can make it."

"She only said that once, right?" Blaine asked and Quinn nodded. "Well lets give her the benefit of the doubt. That was when she'd only just woken up. She was emotional and everything was really setting in for her right then. She may not be back to her normal self yet but you can't deny that she's actually trying. And besides the hospital wouldn't have let her out of suicide watch if they thought she was unstable."

Quinn thought over everything Blaine had just said, deciding he had a point. "You're right. I guess I just want her better and better now."

"I'm right with you on that. I'm eagerly awaiting her to make fun of my hair or the fact that I wear bowties," Blaine and Quinn both laughed at that.

"I just want her to smile again," Quinn added softly as their laughter died down. "I want to make her smile."

"I know," Blaine said before his tone grew serious. "Quinn please be careful."

"What are you talking about?" Quinn asked, unable to make eye contact.

"We're best friends sweetie, I know how you feel about her," Blaine held up his hand to stop Quinn from defending herself. "Don't try and tell me I'm wrong, it's been years and I see the way you look at her. I'm not judging but I am going to say this, be careful. I'm not saying you would, but don't take advantage of her emotional state right now. Be a friend first and if something more happens then something more happens. Do not push her, do not expect anything from her."

Quinn stared at her coffee cup, unable to meet Blaine's eyes. After a moment she sighed before speaking, still looking down, "does everyone know?"

"If they do they haven't said anything," Blaine said reassuringly. "And knowing Kurt he would have said something to me if he did know. I won't tell anyone though, your secrets safe."

"It sucks," Quinn said with a tremor in her voice. "Part of me always wanted a chance but I knew Brittany was her soulmate and I would never have done anything to mess with that. I'm just scared that she'll hate me if she ever finds out."

"You're scared about a lot of things lately, aren't you?" Blaine asked.

"Santana's the only person who can scare me this much," Quinn admitted.

"Love does crazy things."

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

Twenty or so blocks away Santana was drinking coffee in the apartment with the rest of the gang, who had decided to come check up on her while Blaine and Quinn had their buddy time.

"Hows being roomies with Quinn going for you?" Rachel asked as she joined everyone else on the couches in the living room.

"It's good," Santana said simply. "She's been great."

"I should imagine," Kurt added. "She would totally deny it if she was here but she's a total mama bear."

"Right?" Rachel laughed in agreement and Santana just shrugged.

"I guess, she's been patient with me."

"I'm glad you're here with her," Cameron said as he took a sip of his coffee. "You're good for each other."

"What do you mean?" Santana asked. "I mean I get why she's good for me, but what am I doing that's so good for her?"

"She's been lonely," Kurt answered for Cameron. "She stayed her and stayed single while we all moved out to do our own things with our own people. We all just got the feeling that she missed being around everyone. I mean she hasn't dated like, at all, so she doesn't really have someone around all too often."

"That didn't even occur to me," Santana mumbled. "I'm such a bitch, I didn't even notice that one of my best friends was lonely."

"Well you were a little preoccupied," Rachel said softly. "She didn't expect you to be making her feel less lonely when you were taking care of Brittany."

The room fell silent at the mention of a name that had become rather taboo as of late. No one wanted to speak first, the tension weighing heavy on everyone.

"I-I just remembered I have some things to do," Santana stood up suddenly and started grabbing coffee cups to bring them to the kitchen. "Calls to make and what not..."

"Santana, I'm sorry," Rachel stood up to follow but Santana spun around to stop her.

"Don't worry about it, I just need to get this stuff done," Santana said, obviously working hard to keep her voice steady. "We can all hang out later."

"Okay," Kurt said, earning a confused glance from Cameron and Rachel. "Just call us later, okay?"

"Sure, sure," Santana said as she quickly handed everyone their coats. "See you guys around, don't worry about me," she added as she practically shoved her guests out the door.

Almost instantaneously with the door closing behind them Kurt, Rachel, and Cameron heard muffled sobs breaking out in the apartment they had just been in.

"Kurt we can't just leave!" Rachel insisted, strain clear in her voice.

"We don't really have a choice right now, she's an adult and can handle herself," Kurt offered, placing a hand on Rachel's shoulder.

"I'll shoot Quinn a text, tell her to come home. Okay?" Cameron offered as they all began walking away.

"Please do," Rachel said. "If she won't talk to us maybe she'll talk to her."

Cameron just nodded and pulled out his phone.

**Hey Quinn, you might want to head home Santana's upset. Rachel accidentally said Brittany and she made us leave. Don't freak it's not an emergency but we figured that she would actually talk to you about it- Cam**

Cameron had barely had time to slip his phone back into his coat pocket when it buzzed with a response from Quinn.

**On my way- Q**

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

Quinn was breathing heavily as she burst through the door of her apartment in record time. She had run like a mad woman, earning several judgemental glances from people on the sidewalk, on her way home. She tossed her purse and jacket careless onto the couch and made her way towards Santana's room. The door was open a crack and Quinn could hear sniffling coming from inside. Carefully, she pushed the door and stepped in.

"San?" she asked quietly, making the latina lift her head and meet Quinn's gaze with watery eyes. Quinn looked to Santana's hands and saw that she was clutching a framed photo of her and Brittany back when they were first moving into this very apartment.

They were both wearing beaming smiles and holding paint rollers. Santana wore paint stained overalls and had a bandana around her head. Brittany wore short shorts and a loose dance shirt that Santana had just painted S&B4EVA, marking it as though it were a tree in some sacred location. Arms around each others waist, anyone could see that these two were happy together and completely in love. Quinn couldn't help the unpleasant twist in her stomach, but quickly pushed her own issues aside for much more pressing matters.

"I just miss her so fucking much," Santana managed to choke out before starting to cry again.

Quinn quickly went to the bed and sat on it, pulling Santana into a hug. Santana melted herself into Quinn's embrace, burying her head in the safety of Quinn's neck. Quinn just let her friend's tears stain pool against the skin of her neck as she rubbed soothing circles on her back.

"I know you do; I do too," Quinn said honestly. Yes she was jealous, but she still loved Brittany like a sister; nothing could have changed that.

"I feel so weak," Santana sniffled, her voice muffled against Quinn's skin. "I can't even hear her name without freaking out. I can't avoid it forever but it hurts so bad to hear it."

"All in good time," Quinn said reassuringly. "And everyone else understands, so don't worry they aren't offended or anything."

Santana sighed and pulled herself up, sitting up cross legged and wiping tears from her eyes. Quinn eye's widened comically when Santana suddenly started giggling.

"What's so funny?" Quinn asked, not even attempting to hide the wide grin on her own face.

"You really are mama bear," Santana said with a small smile. "Rachel said it today and I just totally get it now."

Quinn blushed and ducked her head, "No, I'm not," she said sheepishly.

"Yes you are," Santana insisted. "Don't fight it, it's endearing."

Quinn just smiled even wider, if that were possible, as her heart pounded wildly against her chest.

**A/N: People said they wanted Quinn's feelings to be more apparent so there you have it. Things are finally looking up... for the time being**


	8. Birthday Blues

"So, your birthday's coming up," Quinn mentioned casually as her and Santana sat at the small table in the kitchen armed with their respective bowls of cereal.

Santana grunted in response and Quinn couldn't help but bit her lip to hold back a smile.

"Does that mean it's still to early for you to hold a conversation or that you just don't wanna talk about it?"

"Both," Santana mumbled before spooning another bite of cereal into her mouth. Suddenly Quinn wasn't smiling anymore.

"Oh, alright," Quinn consented with a nod and got up to put her bowl in the sink.

Quinn had been worried that this would happen. Yes, Santana was making good progress considering what a loss Brittany had been for her. She wasn't wallowing around in misery all too much but she definitely had a problem with having fun. Fun made her feel guilty because when she had fun, she wasn't thinking about Brittany. Santana was definitely still at the point where she felt like it would be betraying Brittany to let her go; not so much as in the beginning, but it was still there.

All of that meant that celebrations of any kind were out of the question so long as Santana could help it. Sure she would attend the birthday celebrations of her friends so as to not be completely anti-social and rude, but celebrating her own? Out of the question.

But not if Quinn could help it. No, Quinn Fabray was a woman on a mission and she would make sure that Santana's birthday had something special to distinguish it from just another day. Even a single cupcake with a candle would do, but that was a last resort. Quinn wanted Santana to have fun, actual guilt free fun. For once. But, despite her good intentions, Quinn knew that if she tried to spring it all on Santana as suprise it would be rather insensitive and go over poorly. Some persuasion was in order.

So, an hour later after Santana was showered and caffeinated, Quinn decided to try again.

"Santana!" Quinn called from her spot on the couch. "Come in here!"

A moment later, Santana came in and dropped down next to Quinn.

"Yes?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"What do you want for your birthday?" Quinn asked.

"Not this again, Q. I already said I don't want to do anything," Santana said with a sigh.

"Absolutely nothing?" Quinn asked again. "No friends, no food of your choice, no going out? Nothing?"

"I'm glad we're on the same page," Santana said with a faux-smile and patted Quinn's knee before standing up to retreat back to her room.

Quinn just leaned her head back on the couch and sighed before pulling out her phone and shooting a text to someone she felt could help.

**Can you meet me for coffee? I need some sage advice- Q**

**Well you've come to the right man, the usual place in 15? - B**

**Sounds perfect, see you then- Q**

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Fifteen minutes later on the dot, Quinn walked into her and Blaine's coffee place to see that Blaine had already grabbed a table and had ordered their drinks. She waved before walking over and sliding into her seat.

"The doctor is in, how may I help you today Ms Fabray?" Blaine asked as he slid Quinn's coffee over to her.

"It's Santana's birthday next week," Quinn explained. "She doesn't want to do anything. I mean she literally wants to do nothing."

"Well, you can't force her to do anything," Blaine said. "If she doesn't want to celebrate she doesn't have to."

"I know," Quinn sighed. "But she has to start letting herself have fun. She just won't let herself go and it's driving me insane."

"She's not getting better fast enough in your opinion," it was a statement, not a question. Quinn nodded, suddenly swamped with guilt over feeling that way.

"I just want her to be able to have fun again. At least she smiles and stuff sometimes now but I can see that part of her is still holding back."

"Everyone has their own healing pace, you can't rush it," Blaine said as he took a sip from his drink.

"What about when your mom died?" Quinn asked. "Was your dad all depressed and unwilling to have fun like this?"

"My parents situation was far too different to really compare them to Santana and Brit. They were married for years before she died. Brittany died in what should have been her prime years, when her and Santana's life together should really have just been getting started," Blaine explained. "Their situation is much more traumatic and unfair than my parents. My mom was older, she'd already done the things she'd really wanted. Yeah my dad was torn up by it but he didn't feel like she'd be missing anything major aside from grandkids, that made it easier."

"So Santana doesn't want to do amazing things because she feels bad that Brittany never got to do them?" Quinn asked.

"I'd say that's a fair assumption," Blaine nodded. "But I couldn't say for sure. You should just talk to her, she opens up to you way more than any of us so you'd have the best chance their."

"That may be true but she still has her moments where she just brushes me off and throws up the walls," Quinn sighed. "I swear it makes me feel ridiculously weak when I can't get in."

"That's because you take it personally when she shuts down," Blaine said and Quinn nodded sheepishly.

"I just want to understand her and have her trust me completely," she explains and wraps her hands tighter around her coffee cup.

"You love her," Blaine says simply. "But you shouldn't take it personally, when she shuts down it's about her not you."

"Easier said than done," Quinn smiles weakly. "I just want to be there for her so bad and it sucks when I know she's in the other room feeling like shit and I can't do anything about it."

"There's not really anything you can do about that," Blaine says with a shrug. "Kurt's worried about you, you know."

"Wait Kurt knows?" Quinn hisses, ducking her head as if she were expecting him to pop up at any moment.

"Sweetie, I think everyone has their suspicions," Blaine says with a chuckle. "I mean Kurt brought it up one day and I confirmed because I can't lie to him, so he definitely knows. But we haven't said anything to anyone else, but Rach and Cam probably know just because it's semi-obvious."

"Oh God," Quinn moans and lays her head on the table. "I can't believe this is happening."

"You're really channeling high school Rachel Berry right now," Blaine teases. "Come on Quinn it's not so bad, no one thinks poorly of you because of it. It's just that you've never dated anyone else and you look at her this certain way that makes it obvious."

"Wait if I look at her and it's obvious does she know?" Quinn's head shot up and the desperation in her eyes made Blaine recoil slightly.

"She's a little too caught up in her personal turmoils to notice other people looking at her like she's the greatest thing to grace the planet," Blaine says carefully.

"Oh thank God," Quinn sighs and runs a shaking hand through her hair. "She can't know, she'd hate me."

"I don't know about hate," Blaine says. "I highly doubt she'd hate you. But, she's definitely not ready to know that someone else out there loves her like that."

"Don't I know it," Quinn grumbles before asking. "Wait, why's Kurt worried?" 

"Because you're worrying yourself into a hole in the ground over her," Blaine says like it's obvious. "You've just invested yourself in her so strongly and it's like your happiness depends on hers. We just don't want to see anything happen to you because, well..."

"Well what?" Quinn askes.

"Well," Blaine sighs and furrows his brow in concern. "I'm sorry to say this and please don't take it the wrong way; we just don't want to see you hurt because there's a pretty good chance she won't ever feel the same way about you as you feel about her."

Quinn sighs and stares at her hands for a moment. Blaine fears that he should have just kept his and Kurt's concern to himself before Quinn finally speaks up.

"I know," she says so quietly Blaine almost misses it. "Believe me, I know. I would love more than anything in this world to be with her like that but the rational part of me knows that that glass is half empty rather than half full. But I can't just stop loving her. If I could I would have done that already."

"Just don't let yourself get hurt," Blaine reaches across the table and puts his hand atop Quinn's. "We all love you both. Just know that whatever happens Kurt and I will always be there for you."

"Thanks," Quinn says, offering up a smile. "I should head home. I need to work on Santana to get her to at least allow me to give her a cupcake on her birthday."

"Good luck with that," Blaine laughs. "We'd all love to do something with her, but we'll understand if we can't."

"Alright, I'll see you soon," Quinn says as she gets up from her seat. Blaine gets up too and pulls her into a hug before she leaves.

"Don't take it personally," he says once again.

"I'll try not to," Quinn smiles at him once again before leaving the cafe and starting on her walk home.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Santana, I'm home!" Quinn called as she channeled her inner Ricky Ricardo. After her talk with Blaine she was determined to make some sort of birthday plans with Santana and she figured a little joking around would be a good way to listen her friend up.

"In here!" She heard Santana call from the living room.

"You know, you should be the one calling to me when you get home," Quinn pointed out as she dropped onto the couch next to Santana.

"Well, that's racist," Santana dead-panned, looking semi-offended.

"Oh shit, no!" Quinn said quickly, realizing only now how that may have sounded. "I mean 'cause I'm Lucy."

"I'm just kidding, I know what you mean," Santana said with a small smile. "You should have seen your face, Luce."

"Luce?" Quinn asked, her heart swelling at the thought of having that be a pet name for her from Santana.

"I don't know, I kinda like it," Santana shrugged. "It's something no one else calls you, it could be our thing."

"We get a thing?" Quinn asked, putting all her will-power into remaining casual.

"Makes sense. I mean we're like best friends and all, best friends have names for each other. It's not like I'd use it all the time, it's just cool to have somethiing like that in my back pocket," Santana explained non-chalantly.

"Okay, I like it," Quinn bit her lip and sent up a small prayer that Santana wouldn't notice the blush. She also wondered when she turned into a teenage girl once again and she also wondered why her mind wouldn't just heed Blaine's warning and realize she was leading herself on. But be rational was a little hard when Santana was giving her a pet name.

"Cool," Santana said with a curt nod and put her attention back on the tv show she'd been watching.

"S," Quinn said quickly, not wanting to lose Santana's focus quite yet. "I wanna talk to you about your birthday."

"Quinn," Santana said as she ran a hand through her hair. "I said no, okay?"

"Just hear me out, please?" Quinn asked, trying to pull off a pout. Santana shook her head and laughed a bit, which Quinn took as a sign to continue. "I just wanna do something small. It doesn't have to be with everyone if you don't want. Just let me buy you a cupcake and come to Central Park or something small like that, I dunno. I just want you to do something fun."

"I just don't know," Santana trailed off and looked down.

"You only turn 29 once," Quinn said, gently elbowing Santana's side to get her to look up at her. "Come on, this is your last birthday before you're an old lady, we have to have some fun!"

"I don't want a bunch of people doting over me and acting like I've done something amazing when all I've done is lived another year," Santana sighed and Quinn suddenly understood the guilt thing that Blaine was talking about at the cafe.

"She wouldn't be mad at you for living you know," Quinn said quietly, putting a hand over Santana's knee that was bouncing up and down rapidly. "You don't have to feel like you're betraying her whenever you have a bit of fun."

"I can't help what I feel," Santana muttered. "I know you think I'm not getting better but I am. Before I didn't even want to have fun, now I do but I just can't."

"Let me help you then," Quinn offered. "Just come out with me on your birthday and we'll do something small. If you start feeling bad just tell me and we can come home and watch a movie or something."

"Fine," Santana sighed. "But don't tell the others we're gonna hang out, I don't want them to feel bad that I'm only doing something with you."

"Deal," Quinn said as she broke out into a wide smile. "Trust me on this, we'll have a good time or my name isn't Lucy Quinn Fabray."

"I hope you're right Luce, I really do."


	9. It's My Party And I'll Cry If I Want To

Today was the day and Quinn was a wreck.

_Baby steps, _she would tell herself over and over when trying to come up with the perfect birthday plans for a reluctant Santana. She had covered all the bases and told their friends that Santana didn't want to celebrate so as to not hurt their feelings, so that was taken care of. Quinn may have made those calls right away but it wasn't until last night that she came up with the perfect plan, though she would use the term "perfect" loosely.

Normally Quinn wasn't one to be excessively frazzled over anything but to say that Santana was an exception to many things for her was an understatement. First off, Quinn was in love with Santana, which was enough in itself to get her to act a little crazy as any person in love would. Secondly, Santana was fragile and Quinn had to make sure she didn't crack the porcelain. Put those two things together and you've got yourself a delicate situation. Quinn had to make sure that the plans were within Santana's comfort zone as well as making sure she didn't make things look romantic because, as much as she hates it, she wouldn't want to ruin what was probably the most important friendship to Santana right now. There was a time and place for everything and Santana's first birthday without Brittany probably wouldn't be the best time for a love confession.

So, all of that in mind, Quinn had finally decided on taking Santana to the first diner with good food they had found after moving to the city (also known as their "spot") followed by returning home to watch a movie. It was simple, it was easy, and most importantly it was exactly right for Santana. Even knowing all of that, Quinn was ridiculously nervous and wanted more than anything in the world for Santana to have fun and be happy to day.

"Dress warm, it's freezing outside!" Quinn called as she slipped on her own coat in preparation to head out for dinner.

"Yes _mom_," Santana teased from her room. Quinn smiled, glad that her friend seemed to be in good spirits thus far. Moments later, Santana came to the entryway clad in her black peacoat and a thick wool scarf.

"We contrast nicely," Santana commented, noting Quinn's coat of the same style only in white.

"Because I'm pure and good and you're all black and tainted Satan, pardon me I mean Santana," Quinn joked, as she opened the door and the two exited the apartment.

"Nothing better than some birthday insults," Santana chuckled before shivering against the cold wind that was whipping about. "Jesus Christ you weren't kidding."

"When have I ever lied to you?" Quinn asked, elbowing Santana playfully. Santana laughed once again before burrowing into Quinn's side as they continued walking and it took every ounce of Quinn's willpower to not trip over herself as she felt her heart palpitating in her chest.

_Stay cool Fabray, she's cold._

By what was obviously some sort of divine miracle, Quinn played it cool all the way to the diner and let out a massive internal sigh of relief when they slid into their booth. Opposite sides of course.

The pair quickly ordered their respective regulars and easily fell into conversation about trivial things as they ate.

"So, this is okay right?" Quinn asked once there was a brief lull in conversation.

"Yeah, it really is," Santana nodded before dipping a fry into her milkshake and eating in, making Quinn scrunch her nose in disgust.

"God what is it with people doing that?" she asked. "I'll never understand."

"Don't knock it until you try it," Santana answered, dipping another fry and holding across the table. "Come on, just once and you'll be begging for more."

"Okay, but I'm gonna hate it," Quinn insisted in a rather child-like manner before leaning forward to take the fry from Santana. As she closed her mouth around it she felt the very tips of Santana's fingers brushing her lips, lighting a fire inside her that rendered her unable to even take notice of the taste. She leaning forward awkwardly for a moment, frozen in space before Santana snapped her fingers in front of Quinn's face.

"Anybody home?" She asked, her eyebrows cocked in confusion.

"Sorry," Quinn shook her head to clear her thoughts and puther game face back on as she leaned back down. "I was just a little dumbstruck by how gross that was."

_Good save Fabray, you've got it under control._

"Friendship over," Santana deadpanned and Quinn gave her the "really now?" look.

"I'm glad to hear that our friendship is determined by dipping a deep fried potato into a blend of ice cream and chocolate," Quinn sniped back playfully.

"Well Q, some things are just deal breakers for me and this is one of them," Santana replied cooly, unwilling to be the one to back down.

"It just makes my heart soar to know how much you value my friendship."

"Fries and shakes Quinn, that's all I have to say."

"Fries and shake versus unwavering loyalty, hmm," Quinn cupped her chin in a thinker pose. "Nevermind I see where you're coming from."

"Welcome to the dark side, I knew you'd join us eventually," Santana said with a grin, making a scene out of eating another shake covered fry.

"I don't have to get a black coat now, do I?" Quinn asked.

"Naww, we need a double agent and the white will make them trust you," Santana replied before sighing in content and leaning back in the booth. "I'm stuffed, can we pay and head home? I can't even tell you how awesome pajamas and the couch sound right now."

"Your wish is my command birthday queen," Quinn said before flagging down the waitress and getting the bill. She paid quickly, shooting down Santana's offer to contribute, before letting Santana bundle up against her once again for the walk back home. Finally back inside, the pair briefly separated to go into their rooms and change into pajamas for their movie. Back in the living room, Quinn smiled when she found Santana already curled up in a thick comforter that she had brought from her bedroom.

"What do you wanna watch?" asked Quinn as she made her way over to the tv case and started looking through the dvds.

"Something light and funny," Santana said vaguely; making Quinn role her eyes and smirk before grabbing the first thing she saw, some movie that had come out last year and been a hit that she had picked up during a sale simply because it was only five dollars. She quickly popped in the dvd before scurrying to the catch and jumping next to Santana.

"Let me into the warmth," Quinn pouted. Santana just laughed and opened it up for her to scoot in. Once situated under the covers, Santana rested her head on Quinn's shoulder and started to focus on the movie.

An hour and a half of suprisingly funny viewing, Quinn changed the tv to cable and let a rerun of old sitcoms play as neither woman really wanted to move at the moment.

"Good birthday?" Quinn asked, making Santana tilt her head up from where it still rested on Quinn's shoulder and nod with a smile.

"I haven't felt this happy in a while," she said. "This was just what I needed."

"I'm glad," Quinn smiled back. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you," Santana leaned up and pecked Quinn's cheek, making the fair-skinned woman flush a deep red. "I'm glad I'm here with you, Luce."

Surging with affection for the woman leaned up against her, Quinn let her emotions take over and looked down at Santana. She cupped her face gently and readjusted so they were facing one another before pressing her lips against Santana's in a kiss that was soft but certainly not chaste.

Quinn was on fire. Every nerve in her body tingled as she moved her hand from Santana's cheek to the back of her neck. However, Quinn's body going into overdrive wasn't enough to distract her from noticing that Santana wasn't kissing back and that the distinct taste of salt was now on her lips. She quickly pulled back and looked at Santana with what she could only describe as shame.

They sat there for a moment in silence, both completely in shock for different reasons. Santana licked her lips before dragging her index finger across them. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime she looked up a Quinn with watery eyes that shattered the blonde woman's heart.

"I trusted you," Santana whispered as tears began to streak down her cheeks.

"Santana," Quinn started but was cut off by Santana, who suddenly was much louder.

"No Quinn!" Santana half-yelled half-sobbed. "I fucking trusted you! You of all people should know I wasn't ready for anything like that. That wasn't fair and you fucking know it!"

Before Quinn could respond, Santana whipped the comforter off of both of them and ran back to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. The second the door was closed, Quinn could hear Santana choking out violent sobs. She wanted nothing more than to go comfort her but being that she was the cause for Santana's tears she knew she had to stay away. So, she did the only thing she could do and started crying herself. Quinn reached for her phone on the coffee table and quickly whipped it open, dialing the only person she could talk to right now.

_"Hey, Q, hows goes the birthday fun?"_ Blaine asked, him being the only one who knew that plans had actually been made.

"Blaine I fucked up so bad," Quinn managed to choke out. "I ruined everything, I'm so goddam stupid!"

_"Shit Quinn,"_ Blaine sighed. _"Hang tight Kurt and I are gonna come over. Be there in fifteen."_


	10. It's Been Hard

It was all too much for Santana. Her first birthday without Brittany had been going so much better than she could have ever hoped and then _that_ happened. It had been unexpected, unwelcome, and know that it had happened it was unfathomable.

So, Santana did all she could do and cried into her pillow while clutching a photo of her and Brittany until her knuckles turned white. The photo was a candid one from when the group went camping together in upstate New York and it had been a big deal because they had invited Cameron along to test if he would work well as one of the gang. The weekend trip had been fun, relaxing, and everything you would expect any sort of excursion into the outdoors could be for them (semi-disastrous but a blast nonetheless).

The morning of the last day Brittany had woken up Santana while it was still dark out. Santana, being the total morning person she _isn't_ tried to resist being pulled out of their tent. But, Brittany being Brittany, Santana ultimately was unable to say no and found herself cuddled up with Brittany on a rock overlooking the landscape with a blanket draped around their shoulders. There they sat and watched in a tired awe as the sun rose and dazzled the land around them. Little did they know, Rachel had snuck up behind them with a camera and snapped a picture of them before quietly leaving them be once more. They didn't know about the picture until Rachel had developed and framed it as a gift for their anniversary later that year.

"Santana?" A light knock came from Santana's door, snapping her from the memory. "Santana? Can I come in?"

Kurt, not Quinn. Santana sniffled and didn't even bother trying to wipe her still flowing eyes when she got up and opened the door before quickly falling down onto her bed once more. She heard Kurt sigh before she felt a dip in the bed and a hand beginning to rub soothing circles in her back. The comforting gesture just made her start crying harder and she quickly grabbed up the photo once again.

"She wouldn't be mad you know," Kurt said softly. "She loved you enough to want you to move on rather than torture yourself like you're clearly still doing."

When Kurt got no response he tried again.

"If she were in your place right now and you had been the one who gotten sick, would you want her to move on or spend the rest of her life agonizing over you?"

"Fuck you," Santana choked out. "You have no idea so don't you dare say those things."

"I'm not trying to make you feel bad," Kurt remedied quickly. "I'm just saying that she'd want you to be happy and you know it."

"Easier said than done," she sniffled.

"Are you more upset because you feel like you just betrayed Brit or because this took you by suprise and it wasn't something you were ready for?" Kurt asked.

"I don't know, both I guess," Santana mumbled, tracing her thumb over the photo. "It just doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't make sense?"

"All of this!" Santana said loudly, putting the picture on the bedside table and finally sitting up to look at Kurt. "I mean where the hell did that even come from? We were just watching tv and all of a sudden she's on me!"

"You'll have to talk to her about that," Kurt shifted uncomfortably, not feeling as though it were his place to tell Santana about Quinn's feelings. "I really don't think she meant to hurt you though."

"Well she did," Santana spat out with enough venom to suprise both her and Kurt. "I just feel like she was the person I could really rely on through all this shit and then she betrays my trust like that."

"How was it a betrayal of trust?" Kurt asked.

"Because I let myself be vulnerable and she took advantage of it!" She exclaimed. "She of all people should know how much I'm hurting and still she does something like that! I'm not even close to ready to be... _intimate_ with me like that at all!"

"So a lot of this is about Brittany," Kurt stated.

"Fine, yeah, is that what you want to here?" Santana sneered and tried to paw away some of the tears that were continuing to fall as she stood up and started pacing the floor. "I still feel like I can't do anything that would hurt Brittany if she were here!"

"Don't hurt me when I say this but maybe you should see someone," Kurt said, keeping his voice gentle but not patronizing. "Apparently you aren't able to self-heal on this so I think you need to talk to someone."

"Oh so I should do something just because the great and wise Kurt Hummel says so?" Santana snapped.

"You think it's just me?" Kurt asked in exasperation. "Santana we _all_ think you should!"

"Even better! You all sit around and talk about how broken I am and how I need to talk to some doctor because I'm fucking crazy!" Kurt flinched slightly as Santana yelled at him.

"Santana we talk about you because we love you and quite frankly we're scared! We saw you hurt yourself once and yeah there are days where it feels like we have the old you back but some days we feel like we're just waiting for you to try again! We don't think you're crazy we think you're hurting and none of us, least of all you, know how to make you stop hurting. Just swallow your pride and let someone help," Kurt pleaded.

Santana stopped her pacing and looked at Kurt, her face distorted with sadness.

"I scare you?" she asked softly.

"I'm scared _for_ you, sweetie. Not of you," Kurt said, standing up and walking towards her. "We just want you back to your happy and spiteful self full time, not just one day out of the week."

"She would be so mad at me," Santana whispered, Kurts words were sinking in and she was feeling ashamed of herself. "She would be so mad that I'm just wallowing in self pity and being such a shit friend."

"She'd be dissapointed not mad," Kurt said honestly. "You know she was the happiest person out there and she would never want to be the reason someone was unhappy or felt the need to restrain themselves."

"The worst part is that I know that but something inside me doesn't believe it," Santana's voice wavered as she spoke. "I'm so fucking sorry, Kurt."

With those words, yet another rounds of sobs racked Santana's body and she all but fell into Kurt's arms and cried into his shoulder. Kurt just wrapped his arms tightly around her and held her, perfectly willing to stay like that until she had cried herself out.

xXxXxXxXxXx

In the living room Quinn and Blaine were seated on the couch. Quinn had explained everything that had happened throughout the day to Blaine and was currently hugging a pillow to her chest with her knees tucked up to keep it in place.

"I'm such a bastard," she laughed bitterly. "I can't believe I let my emotions take over like that."

"What are you gonna do about it?" Blaine asked.

"I have no clue. She probably hates me."

"Well, you know that when the time comes for her to be with someone else she should be the one to take the first steps," Blaine said and Quinn buried her face in the pillow and groaned.

"Yeah I know all of that shit," her muffled voice replied. "I know that she has to be the one to make a move but I'm a selfish bitch who ruins her best friends healing process while she's getting over the worst thing that could ever happen to her."

"What you did definitely wasn't good but I don't think you need to be so hard on yourself," Blaine offered in consolation.

"God you just have no idea how hard it is!" Quinn yelled suddenly, tossing the pillow she was holding at the wall where it hit with a dull thud. "For years I've say around and watched her love someone else! I had to keep it all a secret because I loved both of them and couldn't have done that to them. Then Brittany's gone and I have stand by and watch as Santana kills herself from the inside out. Oh and all the while I'm still keeping my feelings secret. It's exhausting, Blaine!"

"Kurt and I know how hard you've been trying and in the grand scheme of the things one slip up in all these years is understandable," Blaine said, putting a calming hand on Quinn's knee.

"That slip up just happened at the worst time possible," Quinn groaned and slouched back on the couch. "I have no idea what to do."

"There's nothing you really can do except talk to her. I'll tell you this much, no matter what happens she'll come around at some point as a friend because you are far too important to her for her to just let you go."

"Yeah, as a friend," Quinn echoed.

Before Blaine could respond, Kurt and Santana came into the living room. Quinn tightened her jaw and inhaled deeply when she saw that Santana had a duffle bag around her shoulder.

"Santana and I are gonna head home, are you coming now or will you meet us there later?" Blaine asked, throwing Quinn a sympathetic smile.

Blaine was just opening his mouth to tell them to go ahead when Quinn put up a hand a stopped him.

"It's fine Blaine, you can go with them," she said, putting on her bravest smile as she tried to ignore the massive elephant in the room.

"All right, Blaine how about you and Santana go call a cab?" Kurt asked. Blaine nodded and got up, grabbing Santana's bag for her and leaving the apartment with a final nod to Quinn. Quinn couldn't help but feel beyond hurt that Santana hadn't even acknwledged her. She looked up to Kurt with broken eyes and silently pleaded for answers.

"That's not all her stuff," he said quietly. "She wasn't really specific but I think she just wants a few days to clear her head. I actually got her to agree to talk to a professional. Blaine knows a really great grievance couselor so we'll try and get her in tomorrow or the day after."

"Good," Quinn smiled weakly, unsure of whether to be happy or heartbroken that her kiss had made Santana finallly conceed to therapy.

"Give it a few days and we'll see about getting her to talk to you, Blaine will keep you posted," Kurt said, walking over to Quinn and pulling her into a hug. "She's hurting and she's angry now but she'll come around to you. Maybe not like you want her to but you'll always be her friend."

"Yeah, that's what Blaine said," Quinn sighed as they let go of each other. "I guess I'd rather have her as a friend than not at all. Maybe we both need therapy."

"Whatever works for you," Kurt smiled and headed to the door. "I'll see you later, Q."

"Bye," Quinn mumbled as he closed the door behind him. The clicking of the latch echoed through the painfully empty apartment and Quinn felt more alone than she had all these years.

"Please come back," Quinn whispered to herself as a new wave of tears began to lull her to sleep.


	11. Getting The Ball Rolling

**A/N: I'm no doctor nor have I ever been to a therapist, so there's a good chance that the things I write are total crap that no one would ever actually say but I'll try to make things plausible.**

"Ms Lopez, Dr Sanderson will see you now," the receptionist of the small office called from behind her desk where the steady clacking of fingernails on keyboard keys were filling the room. Santana sighed and reluctantly loosened her grip on the arm rests she had been holding onto for dear life and pushed herself up.

"I'll be here when you're done," Kurt lowered his magazine to give her a reassuring smile. "Blaine says she knows what she's doing so please, give her a chance."

Santana gives him a fake smile back and nods before she pushes open the slightly jarred door to Dr Sanderson's office. When Santana steps into the room she finds Dr Sanderson sitting behind a large desk. He's a handsome young man, probably around 30, and has a pair of reading glasses resting on the bridge of his nose which was buried in some sort of paper work. He doesn't look up until he hears the door click shut behind Santana.

"Ah Ms Lopez," he says with a smile as he slips his glasses off of his face and into the front pocket of his gray, black, and white flannel. Santana found it interesting that a person in Dr Sanderson's profession would dress so casually what with the flannel and jeans he adorned. But nonetheless, it made her feel more comfortable that she would have been had the doctor been some man in a lab coat with a pipe sticking out of his mouth as she'd imagined. It would be more like talking to a friend than getting analyzed by someone because she was crazy.

"Santana's fine, better actually," she said as she reached out to take the hand that Dr Sanderson had extended to her for a greeting.

"Well you're free to call me Dr Sanderson or Kyle, whichever you prefer," he motioned to the plushy-looking leather couch. "Have a seat."

Santana sat and watched as Dr Sanderson- rather, Kyle - sat on an identical one opposite her. He crossed on leg over the other and leaned back with his hands clasped in his lap. Santana bounced her leg and stared at the ground, not wanting to make eye contact and hopefully avoiding actually talking for at least a few more moments.

"It's okay to be nervous," Kyle's voice pervaded Santana's ears and she looked up on instinct. "A lot of people are reluctant to come in and talk to me even if though they're here of their own accord and can leave whenever they want. It's mainly an issue of getting the ball rolling, it's hard to start talking but once you get going it'll be a thousand times easier."

"How do I start then?" Santana asked, finally making eye contact.

"However you want, we don't even have to tackle the real reason you felt you needed to come and see me," Kyle said with a shrug. "You can tell me about your favorite movie, what bands you like, some fond childhood memory. Or we could just get right to it if you'd rather get straight to business."

"I think business," Santana said after a moment of pondering. "I wouldn't be here if I hadn't spent so much time putting off dealing with 'business', as you call it."

"In that case, the floor is yours," Kyle let himself sink into the couch and waited for Santana to start.

"Brittany was my girlfriend, the love of my life," Santana began with a shaky exhale. "We'd known each other since we were kids and I think I was in love with her before I was old enough to even know that that was what I was feeling. We were best friends, totally inseperable. Then in 8th grade she kissed me during one of our weekly sleepovers. I remember it so clearly, we were just sitting together curled up on my bed watching a movie like we always did and she just leaned over and kissed me. Nothing too crazy it was a first for both of us, it was tame but intense to kids like us."

Santana laughed at the memory.

"When she pulled away she asked me if she had bad breath or something because I apparently looked absolutely stunned. My mouth was all hung open and I was wide-eyed. I remember almost wanting to call my dad upstairs because I thought I was having a heart attack, my heart was beating that fast. But then I told her I just hadn't expected that and that her breath was fine. Then she asked if she could kiss me again and I said yes. I'm sure that my eighth grade self thought that we went crazy that night but we kept it pretty tame. We just ended up cuddling together and fell asleep like always. The next morning we woke up and she asked if I was okay. The night before I'd been so excited and happy but when I woke up I had had time to really absorb what had happened and I told her we had fun but nothing more.

"For the next three years we would hook up all the time. But I kept telling myself and her that we were just keeping one another occupied when there wasn't a boy to go to on any given night. I figured that I wasn't supposed to feel the way I did about her but I couldn't just give her up so I settled with that reasoning. Three years of screwing guys left and right but not a single one of them made me feel anything that Brittany did. Honestly though, I think I could have denied my feelings forever. Hell, if it weren't for Brittany I'd probably be married to some equally closeted guy and we'd be miserable together. But, and thank God she did, during junior year Brittany called me out on my shit and actually made us talk.

"I remember going to this substitute teacher, Holly Holiday- she was really cool and easy to talk to. She brought us into her 'sexy sharing circle' and kind of got a dialogue going between us. Well, she got us to sing a song together, 'Landslide', and to this day I mean every word. Hell I think I might mean it more today than ever before because now that she's gone I think the best way to describe myself is buried beneath a landslide. It's like a was on top of a mountain and then when she was gone the side of that mountain fell off and I got trapped beneath it all."

Santana's voice was shaking now and a few tears had begun to cascade down her cheeks. Kyle got up during her pause and went to his desk to grab a box of tissues, which she took with a quiet 'thanks'.

"Keep telling me the story of you and Brittany," Kyle prompted once Santana had recomposed herself and dried her eyes.

"Okay, ummm well," she began, trying to remember where she'd left off. "Right. Well we sang the song in front of all our friends in our glee club and Rachel, she's a really close friend now, she applauded us for exploring 'sapphic charm'. I freaked out because the second I let myself be vulnerable the exact thing I'd been afraid of happening happened; someone tried to label me as something that I knew could potentially destroy me in small town Ohio. She definitely wasn't being malicious but it still pushed me back a few steps in terms of how I let people in public perceive me. Nevertheless the song got me thinking and I was able to admit that I was without a doubt in love with Brittany. Hell not only did I love Brittany but I hated guys and felt zero attraction to them. I was gay as gay can get.

"I told her all of that. I laid bare my soul so she could reach out and take it for her own and she rejected me for this boy she was dating. She loved me but she loved him too. I was so fucking mad at her for making me confront all these pent up feelings only to have her do a total 180 and tell me she didn't want me. So we both dated guys and things got a little awkward between us. But then it became too much for me to not have her and I sang her another song, 'Songbird', the second I found out she broke up with Artie."

"I take it you have a special place for Fleetwood Mac," Kyle commented with a smile and Santana couldn't help but smile back with a nod.

"Definitely. I listened to 'Go Your Own Way' about a million times after Brittany chose Artie. The whole I'd give you everything but you won't take it felt pretty relevant to me at the time," Santana agreed before going back to her story. "Then she asked me to prom and I, being the coward I was back then, backed out and went with this gay guy I was dating at the time. Thankfully she didn't turn her back on me after that and we actually got a little better with our talking and stuff. We were back to normal but I was definitely not letting our, lets says special friendship, become public knowledge. The thought of people knowing and hating me for who I loved was still far too much to handle. So, we spent our summer between junior and senior year just being together privately. Sleepovers, camping trips, stolen touches under tables at restaurants.

"Senior year is when shit really hit the fan. I basically tumbled out of the closet face first thanks to a lovely little video campaign by an Ohio governor candidate who was going up against my then cheerleading coach. I was being a huge bitch to this kid Finn and he yelled down the hall at me that maybe I'd be nicer if I just came out of the closet. The governor candidates daughter overheard and told him. He used my face in an ad campaign to slander my cheerleading coach, saying she didn't value family because she had a gay head cheerleader. Those aired and everyone knew and I just had to sit there and let it happen. Thankfully my parents turned out to be totally supportive.

"Then I told my abuela and she was angry. She kicked me out of her house once I told her. I remember running all the way to Brittany's house and she just held me and let me cry until I couldn't cry anymore. Then she told me that no matter what happened I'd always have a home with her. No matter how many people hated me for something I couldn't control she'd always love me and be there to hold my hand when things got tough because that's what people do when they love each other. Any time I needed someone next to me it'd be her, anytime I needed help with anything I could go to her and she'd make it better. I promised right back."

Santana sighed and looked down at her hands, which were firmly grasping her knees. She looked up and saw Kyle's soft, encouraging smile and soft brown eyes gazing kindly back at her, waiting for her to feel comfortable to continue.

"But yeah everything was fine after that. My mom talked to my abuela and she came around. By the time I left for college all the people who really mattered knew my deepest secret and me and Brittany were open and happy together. We moved to New York with our best friends and went to school. Everything was perfect in the city of dreams and we just enjoyed life. We worked our asses off between school and shitty jobs but we couldn't have been happier because we did it together.

"Then one day we were fooling around," Santana blushed and ducked her head. "I was you know, feeling her up a bit, and I felt something. It was nothing I'd ever felt before and I had felt Brittany enough to know what did and did not belong. This did not belong so I told her she had to see a doctor. The doctor did a biopsy just to be safe and for some reason we thought that was the end of it. But then we got this phone call a few weeks later and it wasn't nothing. It was cancer and it was a lot further along than they could have ever anticipated. They were willing to try all the chemo and radiation but they were pretty skeptical. I promised her that everything would be okay and that I'd keep her safe.

"Turns outs they were right to be skeptical though, because we did it all and she never got better," Santana sighed and dabbed at her eyes with another tissue. "Eventually we found out she only had a few months left and that they'd try and give her medication to make everything easier but she was in for a fast decline. At first I would take her out and try to do all sorts of fun stuff with her but pretty soon she got to frail for that stuff so we would just stay at home and do stuff there. I always put on a happy face for her but it killed me to see her getting smaller and smaller everyday. It was literally like watching a fireplace burn out; one minute she's bright and filled with warmth and before I knew it she was burnt out and everything was cold."

"It must've been hard, staying strong for her," Kyle said. "It takes a special kind of person to be able to put their own hurt, especially of the magnitude I'm sure yours was and is, aside for someone else's sake."

"Hardest thing I've ever done. Hell I thought being a closted lesbian in Lima, Ohio was hard but that shit really took the cake," Santana laughed grimly before growing solemn again. "But I did slip up once."

"Tell me about that," Kyle requested gently.

"One night I walked into our bedroom and she was laying in our bed with her eyes closed but not asleep. I just stood there and watched her and thought about how she used to take up so much more space. I mean, Brittany was a dancer so she was always trim and fit but this was insane. She used to have muscle on her and now she was just skin and bones. I still thought she was beautiful but that was the first time I noticed that she wasn't radiant anymore, the glow was gone.

"So, I started crying and I tried to leave the room before she heard but nothing ever gets by Brittany," Santana smiles fondly at the thought. "She called me to the bed and for the first time in months she was the one who held me and kept me safe. When I was done she asked why I was said and I said you know why I'm said. She asked me why I was crying about it if she hadn't even cried about it yet."

"She never got upset?" Kyle asked in suprise. "I must say that that's quite the feat. Most people, no matter how strong they are and how much they want to enjoy their last days, would break down at least once."

"Well she did, she just hadn't yet at that point," Santana explained before getting back to her story. "I just told her that I couldn't imagine life without her and that I didn't know what to do when she was gone. She told me to be happy because she couldn't die happy if she knew that the person she loved was going to more or less die along with her. I promised her I wouldn't and put my brave face back on. That was the last time I ever cried in front of her."

"Brave face," Kyle said. "Meaning you weren't truly at peace with what was happening?" 

"Hell no," Santana deadpanned. "A pretty significant part of me died along with her."

"And that's why we're here today," Kyle stated.

"Partly," Santana said with a firm nod.

"The other part is feeling like you broke promises," he continued. "A few times you mentioned that you made her promises about keeping her safe. You feel like you never did that."

"Yeah," Santana murmured and looked down. Now that the story telling part was over it was time to tackle the tough issues and she was fighting to keep herself from shutting down.

"What about betrayal?" Kyle asked.

"What do you mean?" Santana asked back, once again resorting to not making eye contact.

"A lot of people have trouble moving on when their partner dies because it means that they get to move on while the other person can't," Kyle explained. "The thought of being with another person still makes you feel as though you'd be cheating on Brittany."

"Definitely," Santana says with a sigh. "I mean, I've gotten to the point where I want to move on on my own but I just can't."

"Well that's definitely a good accomplishment in itself. Recognizing that it's okay to move on is half the battle, granted though it is the easy half. Now you just need to take the stepping from knowing it's okay to move on to feeling like it's okay to move on," Kyle elaborated.

"Makes sense," Santana said with a nod, trying to contribute at least a little to keep herself at least a little open.

"So to me our list of things to do are this;" Kyle began. "Feel like it's okay to move on, deal with the guilt of feeling like you couldn't protect Brittany, and nourishing your livelyhood so you can be happy. Sound right to you?"

"Sounds right," Santana said.

"Well our hour is up so why don't you come back in two days and we'll start tackling the really hard stuff," Kyle said as he stood up from the couch and walked over to his desk.

"Okay, I'll be here," Santana agreed as she headed towards the door.

"Oh and here's a little homework assignment," Kyle said as he sat back down and slipped his glasses back on. "Think about what Brittany would say to you if she knew how you were feeling about all of this."

"Will do, Kyle. Thank you," Santana said with a polite smile and a nod then exited his office and returned to the waiting room where Kurt still had his nose buried in the same magazine.

"Would you like me to email you a reminder for your next appointment Ms Lopez?" The chirpy secretary asked, making Kurt look up and realize that Santana had come out.

"No thanks, I'll remember," Santana declined as she made her way over to the door and signalled for Kurt to come. She knew that therapy was going to be good for her but it was a lot to deal with and she was ready to get the hell out of there. An hour of dealing with personal demons is enough to make anyone seriously need some fresh air. Well, as fresh as New York city air could be.

"Slow down, Santana!" Kurt called as he jogged after Santana, who had already made her way half-way down the block.

"Sorry," she said, slowing her pace and falling into step with Kurt. "I'm not running away from this, just so you know. It was just a lot in a short period of time and I need to put some space between it and myself."

"I figured, seeing as you have another appointment," Kurt said, tightening his coat around his shoulders as a harsh gust of wind blew by. "How was it though? I get if you don't want to talk about it but I'd like to know if you think it's a good fit."

"It was good, hard but good," Santana sighed. "I need it and Kyle's a nice guy. Part of the reason I was so reluctant and put off therapy so long is because I have these preconceived notions of these suit and tie kind of doctors who scribble down every word you say for analysis in some creepy leatherbound book. But it wasn't like that at all, it was as comfortable as a situation like that could get."

"I'm glad," Kurt said, deciding that it was time for a subject change. "How about an early dinner? I can call Blaine and have him meet us at that italian place you like."

"Yeah," Santana nodded, now realizing just how hungry she really was. Apparently therapy works up quite the appetite. "Sounds perfect."


	12. Making Progress?

It had been four days since Santana had left the apartment and Quinn felt like she was going to drop dead of an aneurysm at any moment. Aside from Kurt stopping by to pick up Santana's phone charger the day after she'd left, she had gotten absolutely no updates. So, she divided her time waiting for news between pacing the apartment, working tirelessly at the diner, watching every single episode of the Jersey Shore, and a plethora of other mindless things.

Day four turned out to be her lucky day because as the sun was setting over the New York skyline there was a knock on Quinn's front door. She leapt up from her spot on the couch that her body had practically been indented into and almost slammed into the frontdoor as a result of the momentum her eagerness had afforded her. Stopping briefly, she took a second to regain her composure and attempt to look like she hadn't been worrying herself into the ground just in case it was Santana. With a big show smile that could put Rachel's to shame, she opened the door to find...

Blaine.

Quinn's shoulders visibly slumped and she just turned around with a sigh to plop back onto the couch.

"Please, contain your enthusiasm," Blaine said sarcastically as he walked in, closing the door behind him. "I know I'm not who you really wanna see right now but I'd think you'd at least take the time to say 'hello' to your best friend; who, if I may add, has brought you two slices of that disgustingly greasy pepperoni pizza that you can never say no to."

Now noticing the smell wafting through her apartment, Quinn perked up a bit and offered Blaine a small but genuine smile as he handed her the slices which were being held between two paper plates.

"I'm sorry, and thank you," she said as she laid her eyes on the pizza, only now realizing how hungry she was. Without another word, she picked up the first massive, classically New York, slice of pizza and took a bite that would put a snake to shame.

"You don't want some napkins, to you know, dab it?" Blaine asked, his eyes drifting to the grease glistening on the pizza.

"Are you kidding?" Quinn asked through a full mouth. "That's what makes it _so_ damn good."

"You should be fat, just sayin'," Blaine teases as her sat down beside Quinn, watching her practically inhale her food.

When Quinn finished in record time, she sighed and leaned back on the coach, ignoring Blaine's wide-eyed observations of her. She didn't really care if her thought she was eating like a beast, her mind had been a little too preoccupied as of late to remind her to do things like eat.

"So," Blaine began. "How've you been? If your eating habits just now were any indication I'd say you've seen better days."

"Well, Blaine, you're definitely right about that," Quinn said with a bitter chuckle. "All I've done these past few days is work, pace around, and watch shit tv shows. And do you know what else?"

"What else?" Blaine asked.

"I tried smoking!" Quinn through her hands up in exasperation and pointed to the coffee table where a pack of Malboros lay. "I wanted something to calm me down and figured, 'what the hell have I got to lose?' and bought those!"

"Quinn, I love you but that's a really stupid thing to do," Blaine scolded and reached for the packet. He opened the packet to inspect it and found that only one was missing. He turned to Quinn with a raised eyebrow and a faint smirk.

"I lit one, inhaled, coughed for about ten minutes, then threw up," Quinn muttered. "I can't even smoke a fucking cigarette properly."

"There are worse things in this world than being unable to smoke a cigarette," Blaine laughed as he tossed them back onto the table. "All jokes aside though, Quinn, it's not a good sign that you felt the need to do something like take up smoking. As your best friend I'm gonna be honest here and say that you look like shit."

Quinn opened her mouth to bite back but closed it quickly, realizing he was definitely right. She hadn't been sleeping or eating reguarly and it was showing up physically. There were bags under her eyes and she just seemed to droop as she sat on the couch.

"You remind of Santana a bit right now," Blaine said quietly, staring at his hands which were clasped in his lap. "It's scaring me a bit."

"What?" Quinn asked, broken out of her stupor by the subtle sadness in her friend's voice.

"You're putting yourself on hold and just being consumed by what happened," Blaine explained. "You're just dwelling on it and not taking care of yourself. Of course it's not as bad as Santana was when Brittany died but it's like I'm seeing traces of her in you right now. You both just get so consumed by the love you feel and don't see anything else, it's not healthy."

"So what, you think I'm gonna kill myself?" Quinn scoffed, feeling slightly offended.

"No, I don't think you're as intense as Santana and this isn't as bad as Brittany dying but you both can just be so self-destructive. I mean, Jesus Christ you seriously lost it for a while in high school and that can't happen again," Blaine said with a sigh. "It's okay to be sad but you can't just pull a Bella Swan and stop living when something goes bad. You have to take care of yourself and find out ways to be happy regardless of whether or not she comes around again."

"I hate when you're right," Quinn said with a nod, letting Blaine's words really sink in. She couldn't go back to the shell of a person she was at the beginning of her senior year when she was grieving over giving Beth up for adoption. As Shelby had told her then, being an adult means forgiving yourself for the mistakes you've made.

"If you're sad, you're sad. Just make sure you still eat and sleep and, oh I don't know, have a little fun here and there?" Blaine said with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. "I know I've been telling you that she'll come around, and I really think she will, but you really need to work on yourself just in case she doesn't. Hell even if everything works out perfectly for you and she ends up falling in love with you you still have to be your own person apart from her."

"Tell you what," Quinn said as she stood up, feeling rejuvinated and ready to take Blaine's advice. "I'm gonna take a shower and we're gonna get a few drinks and just talk about stupid shit, just for the hell of it."

"That's a plan I can get behind!" Blaine said, clapping his hands together. "Rachel, Kurt and Santana are at my place so we should invite Cam out too."

"Give him a call and tell him we'll be there in forty-five," Quinn called over her shoulder as she made her way to the bathroom. She quickly turned on the shower and got the water to the perfect temperature before hopping in. As the hot water ran over her she couldn't help but think that there was no better way to get over her funk than drinking for free at Blaine and Kurt's bar with good friends.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Santana sat on the couch and listened as Rachel and Kurt gushed over the latest Broadway gossip that they had heard recently. They had been 'oh my god'-ing and 'you _wont_ believe'-ing for the better part of an hour and Santana had simply accepted that she had no place in this conversation.

"He did not," Rachel stated in shock, mirroring Kurt's position of practically falling out of her seat at the kitchen island.

"I swear to you that he did," Kurt confirmed.

"And the paramedics had to come?" Rachel asked. Santana rolled her eyes at Rachel's apparent need for Kurt to reiterate everything he'd said.

"Well it's not everyday someone dances off the stage!" Kurt exclaimed.

"Are they gonna have to bring in someone new?"

"Well he's ensemble so I don't think they're particuarly attached to him, but who knows," Kurt said with a shrug. Just as Rachel was about to open her mouth yet again Santana cleared her throat very loudly, making the pair of divas whip their heads towards her.

"Yes?" Kurt asked.

"Well as fascinating as it is to listen to a conversation that pertains to me in no way what-so-ever, how about we switch it up for a bit?" She asked, her voice laced with trademark Santana sarcasm. Normally Kurt would bite back but, as of late Santana sarcasm was a rare commodity and he was actually kind of thrilled to hear it.

"Of course, how rude of us," Rachel said and got up to sit on the couch, pulling Kurt with her. "Tell us all about the life of one Santana Lopez."

"Same old, same old," Santana said waving her hand around non-chalantly. "I'm gonna see Kyle for the second time tomorrow."

"SANTANA LOPEZ!" Rachel bellowed and jumped up and ran her hands through her hair. Kurt and Santana just stared at her, both a little shocked by the intense outburst.

"What the hell Berry?" Santana asked when she regained her thoughts.

"You're seeing a _man_?" Rachel said the last word in a stressed whisper. "Is that the real reason you didn't like it when Quinn kissed you? You're not actually a lesbian? Oh my God how did I miss such a pivotal change in my friends life. Are you sure? No, this isn't right you're as much of a lesbian as Kurt is a gay man. I just don't understand how this happened, whe-"

"Rachel!" Kurt grabbed her arm and pulled her back down to the couch. "I swear you're rambling gets worse with age."

"I'll have you know that the amount of speaking I do is perfectly normal," Rachel huffed and crossed her arms before looking pointedly at Santana. "Explain this _man _you're seeing."

"Well, if you'd given me a second to explain and just asked what was going on like a normal person," Rachel rolled her eyes. "You would know that Kyle's my new therapist. God Berry don't ever so much as think that I would date a man, that's foul."

"Oh," Rachel said and shifted awkwardly. "Sorry."

"It's all good Rachel," Santana sighed. All the talk of her dating, no matter how misguided, still was something that made her nervous. Hopefully Kyle would be able to help her with that. She didn't want to be alone forever.

"Where'd you go?" Kurt asked. Santana shook her head slightly and looked at her friends, who were looking back with concern in their eyes.

"Sorry, just the dating stuff is still hard to think about," she muttered in response. "I want to some time but it still hurts to think about not being with Brittany. On the bright side at least I've gotten to the point where I can talk about it." Santana laughed weakly.

"Progress is progress," Rachel said much quieter than is usual for her. "You should be proud of every step you make."

"Believe me, I am," Santana said with a small smile. "I think tomorrow's gonna be a big turning point."

"Why is that?" Rachel asked. Kurt stayed quiet as he had already had this conversation with Santana.

"Kyle's gonna have me talk about what Brittany would say and think of everything," Santana explained. "I don't know, being forced to put things into perspective will probably help me move on. I know she wouldn't want me to dwell over her forever but I really need to flush all of that out. Then hopefully I won't have any panic attacks again if someone makes a move," Santana added the last sentence quietly and was unable to make eye contact as she spoke.

"All in good time," Kurt joined back into the conversation. "You'll get there and you'll find someone to love and love you."

"I guess," Santana sighed, really not wanting to talk about this anymore. Luckily, the doorbell rang and Santana was saved from continuing. In fact, the doorbell rang multiple times.

"Coming!" Kurt sang out as he jumped up and went to the door. When he opened it, three people (who were rapidly running out of oxygen from their persistent hyena-like laughing) practically fell on top of him as they stumbled through the door. Santana, Rachel, and Kurt just watched with wide eyes as Blaine, Cameron, and Quinn fell onto the unoccupied couch in the living room.

"Blaine, you live here. Why'd you ring the bell?" Kurt asked, semi-amused by his husband and friends drunken pile-up.

"I tried the key but the hole was too small," Blaine explained like it was obvious.

"That's what she said! That's what she said!" Cameron shouted and the drunk-buddies collapsed into laughter once again.

"Hey, hey, guys," Quinn slurred as she caught her breath. "That's what _I _said."

And of course, that was enough to get the drunk pals laughing again. When the laughter died down again Kurt noticed that Blaine had somehow in the past few seconds managed to fall asleep.

"That's my cue to put the big boy to bed," Kurt laughed and went to start dragging his dead weight husband to their bedroom.

"Rachie," Cameron whined in a rather childish voice. "I wanna cuddle."

Rachel rolled her eyes and smiled when she heard Kurt's laugh booming from the hallway. Cameron essentially turned into a big baby when he drank and was around Rachel.

"Should we catch a cab home baby?" Rachel walked over to help her husband stand up. He just nodded and pouted at her as she slung his arm over her shoulder. "Lets go then." Rachel gave Santana a quick nod goodbye before managing to haul her husband out of the front door.

And that's how Santana found herself alone in a room with a very drunk Quinn. Santana felt her heart rate increase and started fiddling with her hands, looking anywhere but at Quinn and hoping that Kurt would be back soon.

"Santana," Quinn's voice broke the silence and Santana's head shot up to see a practically green faced Quinn.

"Shit," Santana muttered. She quickly got up and switched into helper mode, placing an arm around Quinn's waist as dragging her towards the bathroom. The second they got in their Quinn dropped to her knees and was hugging the toilet bowl as she heaved out her insides. Santana sighed and knelt down beside her and began to rub tentative circles on her back.

Ten minutes later, Quinn's had stopped getting sick and leaned against the cold tile of the bathroom wall. Santana sat cross legged in front of her as Quinn began to visibly sweat out the alcohol. Her and the boys had drank like high schoolers for the first time in quite a while and it was all too apparent now that Quinn's body was not happy with her decision. The next 24 hours were going to be rough for her and Santana felt like she couldn't just leave her alone.

"Come on," Santana said and stood up, pulling Quinn gently up with her. Quinn all too willingly put her body weight against Santana as they made their way to the guest room where Santana was staying.

"Sit on the side of the bed," Santana said firmly yet gently at the same time as she pulled open the drawer she'd put some of her stuff in to retrieve sleep shorts and a wife beater for Quinn to change into.

"Hands up," Quinn quickly complied and Santana pulled her shirt over her head, quickly slipping the wife beater on and avoiding looking at her chest.

"Can you put on these shorts yourself?" Santana asked. Quinn nodded and, after a valiant battle, was able to get the sleep shorts on.

"Lie down," Santana ordered as she pulled back the covers. Quinn silently stumbled her way into a laying down position, her eyes shutting the second her head hit the pillow. Santana pulled the covers up around Quinn's shoulder before turning to leave the room and make a bed for herself on the couch. She grabbed an extra blanket from the closet and, just as she was about to leave the room, Quinn's voice quietly filled the air.

"Stay," she mumbled sleepily.

"Quinn..." Santana stated but was cut off.

"Please, we can go back to not talking in the morning but I don't wanna be alone now," Quinn pleaded quietly. Santana sighed and put back the blanket, completely unable to say no to shivering Quinn who looked smaller than she ever had underneath the covers. The idea of Quinn waking up alone and feeling as shitty as she was going to in the morning was something Santana just couldn't stand. Quinn had been there for Santana so long and one mistake shouldn't make Santana forget that; it was her turn to be there for Quinn, no matter how trivial the hangover of the century may seem.

So, Santana silently slid into bed beside Quinn. She stiffened slightly when Quinn rolled over and rested her head against her collarbone, but relaxed as she heard Quinn's breathing even out. As much as it pained her to admit it, Santana couldn't ignore how good it felt to be falling asleep next to someone again.

**A/N: I only got like, 2 reviews last chapter. That made me sad : [ Reviews keep me motivated and knowing that I'm doing stuff you guys approve of!**


	13. The First Time Ever I Lay With You

**A/N: I don't know if I'm just tooting my own horn or if it really is, but I feel like I did really well with this chapter. Let me know what you guys think! Also, I'm on tumblr now because so many other people seem to be too, so check out the homepage on my profile if you care about that stuff.**

When Santana awoke she felt something strange; another body against hers. She slowly opened her eyes and saw a head of blonde hair resting against her chest as well as feeling a set of legs entangled in hers with arms draped around her waist. It was a pretty intimate position that she hadn't found herself in since Brittany had died.

Which is exactly why Santana was feeling so... confused right now. A voice in the back of her head was telling her that it was Brittany and that surely she must still be dreaming. Deciding she surely must be dreaming, Santana decided to enjoy it as long as she could until she woke up; she'd heard of lucid dreaming so she'd be damned if she let her dream Brittany just slip away. So, she reached forward and pushed a blonde lock from the head resting upon her chest and...

Quinn.

Last night came flooding back into Santana's mind and she internally groaned at her momentary foolishness. Quinn had come into Kurt's drunk, gotten sick, pulled the puppy face and made Santana feel like she would be a stone cold bitch if she'd walked away. Looking back, part of Santana wish she had taken the guilt that would've come with sleeping on the couch over the awkwardness she felt over waking up tangled with what she couldn't help but think was the wrong blonde.

Feeling the intense need to be out of the situation, Santana more or less rolled out of Quinn's embrace in order to avoid waking her and ended up falling onto the floor with a soft thump. She let out a hushed hiss, fighting to stay quiet, before limping out of her room to the kitchen where she intended to grab some frozen peas to dull the bruise that was without a doubt forming on her ass. Out in the kitchen, she found Kurt at the kitchen island sipping coffee and looking over the morning paper. He raised an eyebrow at her when she sat next to him ontop of the frozen peas but the glare she sent him told him that now was not the time for questions. Instead, he just poured another cup of coffee and slid it aross the table to her.

"Sorry I left you with our lovely drunk friends last night, I had to get my lovely dapper man to bed and he's always a handful when he's drunk," Kurt said after Santana had finished her first cup and had begun nursing a second. "I figured you would stick them in a cab with Rachel and call it a night."

"Not exactly," Santana mumbled through a yawn. "Rachel dragged Cameron out and Quinn got sick."

"That's awful, did she get home alright by herself?" Kurt asked as he took another sip from his own cup.

"Well, no, she was really sick and super wasted. I don't think she could've gotten home," Santana explained, trying to avoid the looming confession she would have to make.

"Jesus Christ, Santana!" Kurt exclaimed, worry etched into his features. "Where the hell is she? She could be anywhere!"

"Calm down, Porcelein," Santana scoffed. "She's kinda, sorta in my bed."

"Oh thank God," Kurt exhaled and placed a hand over his chest. "You had me worried for a minute. But wait, you weren't on the couch so... Oh my God you slept with her!"

"I did not!" Santana defended. "Damn, Kurt, in case you've forgotten the reason I'm here is that I couldn't even deal with her kissing me! Why the hell would I sleep with her?" 

"Not like that you pervert," Kurt huffed and rolled his eyes, some things would never change. "I mean you shared a bed with her!"

"Yeah, I did. No big deal, just drop it," Santana said firmly. But, Kurt being Kurt, wasn't deterred by his friends attitude.

"Santana, it's a big deal for you," he said softly. "You said it yourself, you freaked out just because she kissed you. And you _know _she has feelings for you so you have to be careful that you don't give her any false hopes, even if she's drunk."

"God, she begged me to stay with her though!" Santana groaned and buried her face in her arms that were rested on the counter top. "She's like a little lost puppy when she does that and I couldn't just leave her alone."

"You should've slept on the floor then if you felt so bad," Kurt said. "I know you care about her but, like I said, you have to make sure she knows you don't care about her like that. It's a delicate situation for both of you."

"Thank God I'm seeing Kyle today," Santana laughed weakly. "This is seriously fucking with my head."

Kurt rose his eyebrow at that comment. Why would it be fucking with _Santana_? Wouldn't Quinn be the one all torn up about this? Maybe it was just an issue with being close to someone. Regardless, Kurt decided against commenting and to just let Kyle and Santana hash it out later today.

"Kurt, could you do me a favor?" Santana's voice pulled Kurt from his thoughts and he nodded at her with a smile. "Can you grab me some clothes out of my room and drop them in the bathroom. I'm gonna hop in the shower and head out but I don't think I can deal with talking to Quinn if she wakes up."

"Sure thing, I'll make sure she gets home safe too," he promised.

"Thanks, I should be home before evening," Santana said as she got up and put her cup in the dishwasher before heading to the bathroom. That's exactly what she needed, a hot shower and a good talk with Kyle because as of now, Santana Lopez was one extremely confused woman.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Quinn awoke with a loud groan and grabbed blindly in search of a pillow to slap over her face. Even through her tightly shut eyelids the sunlight streaming into the room was blinding.

"Santana," Quinn groaned once again when she couldn't find a pillow. "Santana, gimme a pillow you're hogging them!"

Despite how incredibly drunk Quinn had gotten last night, she still remembered going to bed with Santana. The whole getting sick ordeal had sobered her up enough to make her memories after it pretty easy to call back upon and she very clearly remembered holding her friend in her arms as she quickly fell into a deep slumber.

And, if she was being completely honest, despite feelng like shit it was the happiest she had been in a _really_ long time. Ever part of her was screaming that it meant nothing but Quinn couldn't help but hold on to a small inkling of hope that it had given her. For friendship at the very least, if Santana were actually made at her and didn't want to be friends anymore there's no way she would've spent the night in the same bed as her.

"Santana!" Quinn mumbled loudly, reaching out to hit the space on the bed next to her. She lifted her head and grudgingly opened her eyes when her arm ended up thudding against the matress. Santana was gone and Quinn felt her stomach drop, of course she wouldn't just lay there waiting for Quinn to wake up. Hoping to find Santana in the kitchen, Quinn braced herself against her painful hangover and got up to find her. However, once she arrived at the kitchen she found Kurt and Blaine cuddled up on the couch in the ajoining living room but no Santana.

"Good morning angel face!" Kurt cooed over a sleepy Blaine's head. "Sleep well?"

"Shut up," Quinn groaned as she plopped down next to them and grabbed some of their shared blanket to drape over herself. She rested her head against Blaine's back, who was resting against Kurt's chest and closed her eyes. "I think I'm dying."

"I second that notion," Blaine groaned. Everyone was just full of groans today.

"Well kiddos, despite my choice of name just now you aren't teenagers anymore. Hell, I'm pretty sure teenagers would feel terrible if they drank as much as you guys did," Kurt lectured.

"We did drink a lot," Blaine mumbled, the smirk in his voice evident.

"Quit bragging, you should two should be lucky that you have me to nurse you back to help," Kurt scoffed and stood up, making the two hangover buddies slump into the couch with yet another groan. "Now you two lie there and think about what you did while I go to the store and buy you some soup."

"Yes, mom," Quinn drawled and Blaine snorted out a laugh.

"Children," they heard Kurt mutter as the door of the apartment opened and closed, signalling his departure. Quinn and Blaine laughed briefly before succumbing at the pain that the resulting vibration caused for their wicked headaches.

"Wait, why are you here?" Blaine mumbled, his face pushed into the couch cushion.

"I got sick and Santana took care of me," Quinn mumbled back into Blaine's back. "Spent the night."

"I'm impressed that you actually got her to give up her bed," Blaine said.

"We shared," Quinn replied. She felt Blaine stiffen momentarily in shock.

"Quinn," he said as seriously as someone in his position could. "Are you sure that was a good idea?"

"It felt good at the time but it's making me anxious now," Quinn admitted. "I just need to talk to her and get back to good terms with her. It was kind of a shock to my system to go from no talking and being afraid she'd never let me back in to being all cuddled up with her."

"I don't doubt it," Blaine agreed. "Be honest with me, how are you taking it?" 

"I can't help but feel a spark of hope, as in more than friendship," Quinn said with a sigh. "It's stupid but I can't help the way I feel."

"You're right, you can't. But, no matter what you need to keep the knowledge that she probably won't feel the same at the forefront."

"Yes, Dr Blaine," Quinn teased, wanting to drop the conversation. Luckily, Blaine took the hint and they both were able to ease back into sleep.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Santana found her self seated on the very same position she had been just days ago when she first met Kyle. She was centered on one of the large couches while he was across from her on another with a very casual demeanor about him. Much to her pleasure, Santana found herself feeling more comortable with Kyle that she would have ever imagined; which was extremely surprising, considering this was only her second session.

"So, did you do that little homework assignment I gave you?" Kyle asked and Santana nodded.

"Yeah, I did but I wanna start with something else if that's okay."

Kyle smiled and gestured for her to begin, "As you wish."

"I saw Quinn last night," Santana began with a heavy sigh. "She went drinking with Blaine and another friend of ours Cameron and they came back to Kurt's apartment completely plastered. Rachel took Cameron home, their married, and Kurt put Blaine to bed so I was left alone with Quinn. She got sick so I helped her out and put her in my bed since there was just no way she could make it home. I started to leave to sleep on the couch once I put her down but she asked me to stay."

"And did you?" Kyle asked when Santana paused.

"I did," she said slowly. "I stayed in bed with her."

"Tell me about that," he prompted.

"I liked it," Santana blurted out, much to her own surprise. "I liked being close to someone like that and not waking up alone. I liked just... being close to someone."

"Could you have woken up next to anyone and liked it, or was Quinn an important part of this equation?"

"That's why I'm confused, I don't know the answer to that yet. I thought she was Brittany," Santana admitted quietly. Kyle didn't speak so she continued, "I saw the blonde hair and something in my brain told me I must still be dreaming because there she is. But I pushed some hair back and saw it was Quinn."

"How did you feel when you saw it was Quinn?"

"At first I felt stupid for thinking it was Brittany, but then I felt about 100 different things because I had slept with Quinn. It was weird to be so close to her in a way I'd never been before after what had happened between us. I didn't want to deal with it right then though so I got out of the apartment to come here before she'd woken up."

"But you weren't angry about being close to Quinn like that?"

"No," Santana shook her head and furrowed her brow in thought. "I wasn't. I thought I would be, but I wasn't."

"Well, I think you should talk to Quinn sometime soon," Kyle recommened. "You two need to establish some form of communication. That is, assuming you want to keep her around."

"Of course I do!" Santana said quickly. "I need to have her around, she's my best friend."

"Then, like I said, talk to her. Make sure you two are on the same page and that she understand what you can and cannot give her," Kyle said.

"I think Brittany would be really pissed at me if I shut Quinn out," Santana laughed and shook her head with a smile. "She would tell me that I can't just drop one of my oldest friends over something like this."

"What do you think Brittany would say about Quinn having feelings for you?"

"She'd say that she couldn't blame Quinn, who wouldn't love me," Santana kept smiling as she stared down at her clasped hands. "I swear I'm not being a narcisist, she really would've said that."

"I don't doubt it," Kyle said with a smile. "Brittany wasn't the jealous type then, I take it. I would think that a lot of people would feel threatened if someone else had such strong feelings for their partner, especially when that someone was a close friend."

"She never got jealous because I never gave anyone else the time of day," Santana explained. "Other people could feel all they wanted but I was too caught up in loving Brit to even notice."

"Basically, you were completely whipped," Kyle teased and Santana laughed and nodded. "But what do you think she would say if you felt something for another person _now_, after she's gone?"

"She'd say go for it," Santana answered simply. "She'd tell me to be happy and do what I want because she knows that I'll never forget her or stop loving her. I think she would want me to find someone else if she wasn't there to make me happy."

"So it's not her that's holding you back, it's you," Mark stated.

"Yeah," Santana sighed. "I've always known that. I tried to kill myself after she died, you know."

Kyle nodded, "Kurt had mentioned that."

"When I was in my coma from all the pills I had this dream," Santana began, her voice indicating that she was in a far off place as she recalled upon the memory. "I was in the choir room of my old high school, I guess that's the place my subconcious chose because it's where I learned that it was okay to love Brittany. But she came into the room and told me to let go of her. She told me to keep loving her but to make room to love someone else too because I deserved to be happy. I should let someone else make me as happy as I made her."

"And what's holding you back from that potential happiness?"

"I think," Santana paused briefly to think. "I think it's because I just don't believe anyone else can make me feel the way she did."

"Of course they can't," Kyle deadpanned. "That's what makes love so special, everyone's is unique. No one can make you feel the way Brittany did and Brittany would never make you feel the way any future love interest could."

"Well then in terms of relative happiness I just can't see myself feeling as happy as I did with her," Santana modified her answer.

"You wanna know what I think?" Kyle asked.

"That's what I'm paying you for," Santana joked weakly.

"I think you're afraid of not being able to find that happiness and love with someone else. You're holding yourself back so you don't have to ever deal with the dissapointment of any further heartbreak that someone else may inflict upon you. You need to open yourself up to other people like that and give them the chance to love you. Love is a two way street so you can't wait for someone to give themselves to you completely until you're ready to do it back," Kyle said and Santana listened intently, really _really_ hating how much his words rang true.

"So what you're saying is that I need to take risks to find love again?" Santana asked.

"Bingo," Kyle said with yet another smile. "I'm honestly impressed by how far you've come in just two sessions. Understanding what you need to do is a huge step, now you just need to get to the point where you can actually execute it. It's like singing on stage; you know you can sing but it's still scary as shit to stand up in front of a bunch of people see you in such a vulnerable state."

"I think that's the best way you could have put it for me," Santana chuckled. "I remember the first time glee club performed at sectionals, I was so fucking scared that people would think I sucked but the reward was far worth the risk."

"Exactly!" Kyle exclaimed. "Now just work on applying that logic to potential relationships and you'll be golden. And I know that you know that there's one other thing you need to work on."

"Betrayal," Santana admitted, wishing this could have been put off a little longer but knew it had to be dealt with. "I know that Brittany wouldn't mind, hell she'd prefer it if I pursued other people. But, that doesn't change the fact that I feel like I'm giving away something reserved for her when I feel things for other people."

"Which is where I want us to start on your next session," Kyle said as he pointed to the clock that hung on the wall. "I hate to say it, but our hour is up."

"Time flies," Santana sighed and stood up. "Any homework this time?"

"Talk to Quinn," Kyle suggested as he led her to the door. "Not mandatory because that's something you have to pace in a way that keeps you comfortable but I honestly think that you guys should have some sort of dialogue. Just get the ball rolling."

"Sounds good, and thank you for everything," Santana shook Kyle's hand and offered him a small smile.

"The pleasure is mine. I think you should return in a week and we'll see where to go from there."

Santana said her goodbyes to Kyle and quickly confirmed another appointment with his receptionist before stepping out into a suprisingly sunny day in New York. She couldn't help the light bounce she felt in her step as she happily took in the unseasonable warmth. And, for the first time in quite a while, she truly believed that things would be okay. She didn't know when, but they would be.


End file.
